When winds run errands of whispers
To pores of unattached
Hairs bare their fangs
Like dogs in attacking mode
But goosebumps give their protected out
Cold wins in its test of need
How sad

Cold has released its lions and lionesses
To pounce on needs in this upper zone
And ravage unowned lands
Hunting in every pore
To mark with claws of experience
Lessons unforgettable

I know many will cave in to its torture
And move to rupture hymens
Built like fortresses
Or left like forests
Waiting for angels to pave paths for prayers
Or for akatakyies to pour for them hearty libations

I know many tails will break chains
Sniffing where paws hover
Clinging where fires dance
Hopping where needles tread
Crying on bellies where macho feet stomp
As fearlessness leads some to hunt
In beds of executioners

I can’t say much for crying poles
Whose tears will wet their thready gates
And penetrate blankets to bliss dreams
Only to pinch awareness in self embarrassments
Well, where no third eye watches
Normalcy will reign

Why cold sits like a whipping god in late September
I cannot tell
All I know is
It sure is up to no good
And might fill pots in houses
Already filled to the brim
Costing many mouths hunger and regrets
As previously possessed mothers
And fathers stand on stands of blame
Laying accusations upon accusations in June/July
While cold docks behind the fierce sun
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) September 22, 2016.

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