Ode to my Chillblaines (2)

It is a cold that comes so stealthily

The painful numbing of one’s toes at night 

I walk to bed, my nerves seething fiercely;

A swollen, violet, abhorrent sight.

Each day apply my calamine lotion

A soothing coolness calms my suffered skin

But oh how I long for stronger potions!

And until then, I drown my pain in gin.

Quite enough I have had of agony, 

Walking on corpse-like stumps of sinew grey

But to complain would be a blasphemy

So stoic I walk, through these winter days. 

The burden of my life, these damned chilblains,

A gangrene of Hell, that gnaws at my veins.

by Maria Sledmere