Morning's Chill
My head is heavy, breaths are few,
Wrapped in blankets, feeling blue.
A sneeze, a cough, a weary sigh,
Yet through the window, colors vie.
The sun begins its slow ascent,
A golden glow, the night has spent.
Through watery eyes, I watch it rise,
A masterpiece across the skies.
Though shivers run along my spine,
And aches make every moment pine,
The dawn unfolds in hues so bright,
A silent promise, life's delight.
In this quiet, fevered state,
I find a peace that can't wait.
For even with this cold's embrace,
The sunrise brings a touch of grace.
