One month until St. Valentine’s Day.

I feel hope

even as the cold creeps

into my fingers and toes,

numbing,

reminding me how glorious warmth is.

I try not to whine,

thinking of those

who can’t get warm.

Those

with no home to go back to,

no warm bed

or bodies to snuggle.

Those for whom the chill

is more than bone deep,

climbing into their souls.

My hands and toes may tingle,

but my fire is built

by those at home,

wrapping their love

around me