A Kiss of Ice
Like a cool stream from a huge air-conditioner
the cold wind buffets my chin.
It slips through the minuscule opening
around the face shield, as I ride my
motorcycle to work on a forty degree morning.
Relentlessly the icy breeze kisses my chin.
Penetrating to the bone and permeating through
scores of cells and tissue it reaches
its ultimate destination; and I arrive at
the shop brain dead.
This is four of six in a
series called Caressing
the Detail.
By ArtisticPoet48
© 2008 ArtisticPoet48
(All rights reserved)
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