The Cleveland cold envelops me like cellophane,

Holding me as tight as a rigor mortis grip,

It clenches at my joints,

Constricting my movement not unlike a python,

Walking feels sluggish,

Lifting my arms is akin to moving through clay,

I revel in the uneasiness of it all,

Joy

Splattered across my face,

Despite all of the kinks the cold brings out,

A childlike wonder seeps through as well,

As night begins to overtake the horizon earlier

And earlier

A transcendental calm overtakes my constricted form,

The cold brings out the best in the nature,

And I welcome the arrival.