January 24th

I see gray clouds
groggy as my mind.
The warmth of my bed,
I leave behind.

Entwined with Mother Nature,
I want to hibernate,
yet to my work,
I must dedicate.

I feel nothing,
trees are bare.
Playground empty,
no children playing there.

I hear nothing
silence is still.
Deep dreams I long for,
in my bedroom still.

I smell winds of change
from arctic air,
yet in my mind
springtime through fair.