It’s Cold Outside

abstract art background blue sky
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Working night shift, you come out to your vehicle
and whatever nature has done during the night.
In colder weather, what’s done frequently includes
frost, snow, ice, or even the lovely snow over ice.

You get your door unlocked, get your motor running,
and wait a few minutes for your cold defrosters
to show a hint of warmth before you start scraping.
You help others, others help you, that’s how it’s done.

But on the morning of the season’s first hard freeze,
with a stiff wind thrusting cold air under your coat
while you’re scraping away the frost from your windows;
you suddenly realize “whimper weather” is here.

6 comments

  1. HI Michael

    Indeed, that kind of weather is coming back East and maybe even here at the height of Winter in the high desert of Southern California. And yes, we do get , at rare times, some snow at this higher elevation. This poem is well done and I like the way you get into the details of going out there and scraping away the frost and ice. You bring this scene and experience vividly to life with fine details and mood setting.

    “But on the morning of the season’s first hard freeze,
    with a stiff wind thrusting cold air under your coat
    while you’re scraping away the frost from your windows;
    you suddenly realize “whimper weather” is here.”

    I can really visualize and feel this situation, I have been there but don’t want to go back. Thank you for sharing this.!

    much enjoyed
    wendy

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thank you Wendy. Obviously, with my paralysis, I am no longer able to work or scrape windshields. However, it wasn’t too hard to remember the experience in order to write about it.

    Like

  3. Thank you Steve. I always carried jumper cables, but I was fortunate in only having to use them – for myself or for someone else – a handful of times.

    Like

  4. Thank you Sarah. I have always had a habit of playing with words and song lyrics. On the Simon and Garfunkel song Hazy Shade of Winter, I always used to sing “and the sky is a hazy shade of whimper.” When writing this poem, I remembered that and it seemed a natural fit.

    Like

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