Colds

I do not feel the cold outside my door,
Although I know the temperature is low.
The heat does not affect me anymore,
Because you closed the door and turned to go.
Before, the chill was palpable to me,
An icy blast that froze my very bones;
But now I can ignore it easily,
Not noticing the winter as it moans
In windy form about the house. Instead
I wander up and down the empty hall
And lie awake upon my downy bed
Wondering if warmth exists at all;
It certainly is not inside, nor out,
And therefore I am left somewhat in doubt.