The breeze cold, chilly on my toes.
The kind that numbs and tickles
demanding you seek shelter
beneath a wool blanket or a quilt.
The drinks are hot, warming tummies.
The substance and comfort internal
providing warmth, peace, a cocoon
against the pain and horrors of life.
Simple wants.
Simple pleasures.
Rest for our weary, worn-out soul
is sometimes all we need.