This fluffiness had kept you warm,
but after me, it became all worn.
You took it off and pushed it aside,
‘cause warm is all too fine.
The shirts we wore the day we told,
we wore again right after “none,”
for memories are too fine to hold.
I used to love the cold; open windows, snow and hail,
but I liked the warm; it’s not too frail.
And so, as the weather changes from rain to snow,
we stand in frost, missing warmth,
but freezing cold.