Apricity – the warmth of the sun in winter.
Bitten by the crude cold
Feathers lay ruffled and daunting
Encapsulated, sullen in stiffness
A cloak of bleak, freezing white
Both bitter yet sorrowful
Warmth shines in to savor the taste
Hitting flesh with a silken luster
Slicing through the stakes of stillness
Weaving back what previously thrived
A creature arises, sounding gentle chirps
Slowly twitching in arouse
It perks up to the tenderness
Leisurely stirring with weeps of thanks
It’s flesh stitches back
Contempt in the warmth
