January Morning in Michigan

Creaking, crackling branches

swaying in the wind

in 14 degrees weather

everything so tight and cold

it feels as if I might snap

my feet padding along on the sidewalk

when I arrive home, I finally breathe

and cough an asthmatic gasp as

my lungs warm back up

I'm beginning 2022 with writing--and a head cold, that NEVER morphed into Covid. Somehow I keep getting lucky. I have signed up for a class at Story Studio Chicago and it starts this week. I'm spending time reading and writing--and, hopefully, acquiring an agent for my various projects.