Over the last week or so the the weather in Toronto has been real motherfucking winter, proper negative temperatures, wind chill that has bite to it, blowing snow, Christmas music in cafes, the works. So here is another entry in the my fragments series of poetry.
frosty, frigid, frantic
the temperature falls
boisterous blowing snow
sparkling in the yellow streetlights
merry music and hot cocoa
a salve against the depressive distress