Sharp Inhale

Sharp inhale
Crisp air fills my lungs
Tiny little daggers
I'm cold.

I think of Minnesota.
Where most of winter
It hurts to breathe
Hurts to move

Bones creak
At least they move without pain
This used to feel warm to me
How quickly we adapt.

I'm chilled
But not frozen.
Funny I find solace in
Minnesota's forecast.