Feeling the Cold

Issue sevenIssue Seven Poetry

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by Moya Roddy

 

I told myself you didn’t feel the cold,

out and about in tee shirts in all weathers.

When the rest of us were knee-high in fur boots,

I’d see you push the pram bare-legged in sandals.

You didn’t seem to own a decent coat,

bother much with bobble hats or scarves.

It never dawned on me until late one night,

to get a breath of air I pulled the curtains,

in time to see you running from your house,

hair flying, in nothing but a nightie.

You hadn’t even time to put on shoes.

 

This poem was published in Out of the Ordinary by Moya Roddy (Salmon Poetry 2018).