A Phantom Chill

february's snowy cold

sees slushy feet and frozen toes

and brief dark days that leave me low

i feel a phantom chill

motorcycle traffic brings

vexing noise and ears that ring

drowning out the birds who sing

was it supper made me ill?

when all the kids are out of school

no more books nor golden rule

and the rites of spring seize every fool

my scientists are getting close

the heat of august slows me down

i'm sleepy 'til the sun goes round

comes the cicada's droning sound

my malady is at last disclosed

i like when all the leaves let fly

helicopter seeds twirl high

bare branches set against the sky

the simple truth cannot be believed

november's grey and dreary feel

does autumn's vibrant hue conceal

distant does the warm sun wheel

tho mocked, it gives me great relief

december of the shortest days

of ice and snow and deep malaise

hark the herald holidays

all along it's lain 'neath our nose

my clothes are beautiful–all agree

of finest weave so hard to see

but this chill will be the death of me

for the emperor wears no clothes

~e