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  • Writer's pictureTony Frobisher

Life, Cold

Softly they tread and pass by, Trying so hard not to disturb; Their conscious that can not ignore And as the crowds flock home Where warmth waits, constant Their numbers slowly subside And the cold that penetrates Increases in the spaces between As each footstep kicks freezing air A foot from an ashen face Deep creased unflinching In the sharp stabbing air And night draws in Sucking in the incessant cold That saps life, ebbing fast Life hangs from frozen fingertips Unfeeling, sensless, cruel Ending in the warmth of death The shape of life lost Lain as though permanent asleep On pavements and in doorways A foot from cold And forgotten And gone


The unusually cold temperatures in the UK and across Europe have led to numerous weather related deaths. And many who have had to face this are existing, not living, on the streets. Bundled shapes in shop doorways or under useless canvas next to a river path or park.

But many in society hurry by, with a guarantee of warmth and friendship and love....hurry to escape the cold that is inescapable to so many others.

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