It was the coldest night of winter,
snow on the footpaths and icicles
hanging from the window ledges.
Every window open to biting frost as Ellen had a fever
Cradled in the crook of my arm her chubby hot hand curled around my fingers.
Alison Jean Hankinson
For Quadrille#23 Curl at d’Verse.
Hues of Hankinson 