the jacket.

                    

              Chilled by the still morning,

           unmoved,

          the weather wàs sad-

                 to the untamed

           came the reverbration so famed.

        I thought it was chilly,

     to wear a jacket so warm-

  to cover a borny frame,

 weightless!

     But the jacket was penetrative;

   cold caught my lungs chilling me to contraction,

    to suffocation,

      albeight the heavy armour.

           Now the sun might rise,

       so the jacket I'll get off;

         but I'm shrunk-

                    in love with the rising sun.

©Bunguswa B'W™