I wake up,
I walk out the door.
The dew smells like flowers.
As I walk,
I feel the morning mist brush against my tired face.
I see the daisies
so bright and blue.
As I touch them the dew falls off and onto my foot,
chilling me to the bone.
As I walk through the forest the dew falls off the trees
and keeps me cold.
As I walk home the trees shake in the breeze, all the dew falls
onto my face.
Now I am as cold as winter,
as cold as a polar bear.
Ancaster, Canada
