The cold creeps in

To the little places,

Between the toes

Between the fingers

And in the nose.

 

The cold creeps in

At the expected hours,

Before the snow

Before the sun

While the wind blows.

 

The cold creeps in

When you least expect it as well,

Beginning with Pentecost

Beginning with the nursery rhyme

Escaping with exhaust.

 

The cold creeps in

To the deeper places,

Into your knees

Into your throat

Past your very knowledge that contains

 

The essence of warmth.