Wittier Word Weavers

Writers' Club of Whittier

On Cold Days

1 Comment

On cold days
I love to cook, standing by the fire
standing by the fire, to word
my thoughts and emotions
by the fire to be so close
to warmth and food and other humans.
On cold days
I love to nestle in bed, my icy feet
in the crook of his legs
“Aye, you hurt,” he whines,
I draw closer
“you’re cold,” he mumbles,
“don’t,”
he says, sleepy voice
so I withdraw toward myself,
and turn the pages
of a book.
On cold days
IMG_4498the dog wants to get deep inside
our blanket, where he settles with a heave
moaning almost with pleasure
as he centers
on my legs, snuggled like a lumpy down pillow
quivered with life, in abandonment
he squeezes in
following
my warmth.
On cold days
Scratchy throat, wanting to cough
I blow my nose,
“You’re loud,” he say, “Jerk me up,”
I sniffle, a lump in my heart
the dog
in the nook of my thighs
On cold days.

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Author: Hong-My Basrai

Memoirist and author of Behind the Red Curtain, blogger, engineer, manager, mother of three and wife of one, etc. I am a bit of everything.

One thought on “On Cold Days

  1. “…a lump in my heart…” So poignant.

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