Exotic air falls cool into my chest,
A torrent sweeping deep beneath my heart;
Swift chilling passages with icy zest,
And stilling sudden gasps before they start.
Although I love the thrill of bracing air,
My face may welcome just a touch of frost;
My heart prefers a warmer berth down there,
And not a wintry bed it must defrost.
As I consider, momentarily,
A thought of venturing further outside,
A rasping cough reminds me instantly,
It’s time for me to run inside and hide.
And back into the house I must repair --
To rally from a touch of winter air.
Every year, I have to learn the same lesson -- my lungs and cold air don’t get along well.