by tinabarnt
On a day like this
when the rain mists
and the wind blows cold,
I think about how
warm I felt as a kid,
first thing in the morning
when I’d get up and
crouch over the heat vent
that blew up my night gown
like a punch balloon.
Mom would holler for me
to get dressed and I’d
yell back that it was
too cold.
But she’d have oatmeal,
with milk and sugar
and I’d forget about
how I was about to stand
outside in the cold
waiting for the bus.