Jack Frost

I once lived in such a place with only the outer slats. No insulation or drywall.

Jack Frost

Winter’s freshness has unfolded,
Tucking away the fall land.
Firewood hibernating on the floor
As Jack Frost shakes my hand.

The hunger of a fiery stove,
Stave not the cold wind’s breath.
These walls unclothed save the outer slats
With cracks running a breadth.

My decrepit home could not keep,
Uninvited he came.
Hand in hand with mother’s linen,
He sits with me the same.

I never knew a man so cold,
A homeless man at that.
To share my bed with such this man
Is chilling on my back.

On a day of warmer degree
To which I tolerate;
I am able to pour my bath
While Jack Frost sits and waits.

To know he always has my back,
‘Tis not a comfort need.
He permeates all I have
When winter sows its seed.



24 lines in a loose 8-6-8-6 syllable count rhyming XaXa. Possibly considered a loose ballad form.