I am a brief,
Noticeably annoying,
Somewhat nippy,
Cold wind
My presence often catches attention,
But I am soon shielded as people
Cover their ears
Turn away from me and
Wear walls of clothing and other ignorance
To hide from my coldness
In the end, they can no longer feel me
Because I cannot get closer to them…
I am the growing potential immured by the blanket
Of frigid winter
In this state of dormancy, there is no indication
Of flourishing spring
For I am winter all year long
And if this impeding winter does eventually melt away,
It is not known whether I am the potential growth of
A delicate, ever blooming perennial flower
Or
A twisted and rebellious patch of weeds
