Frost bites

Thick mist in the street makes it difficult to see the right door.
Everything seems like the same grey doorstep.
The cold makes it difficult to focus
and the mind keeps wandering away.
The layers of clothes are unable
to stop it reaching the bones.
Every step crisps under foot.
Reminding that every step counts and is counted.
The veil of white,
transparant distorted filter on reality keeps me slow.
My eyes are deceived,
the road I know is slightly out of focus
by the distorted vision of grey.
The need to walk faster,
to get closer to warmth is the motivation.
But the cold sets me back.
If only it would melt the icey path
that is keeping me from getting to you.
Only if the mist clears, I’d be there sooner.
To be embraced by your warmth,
and frost is left outside.
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