Frozen Digits…

Damn, it’s so cold outside today,

My fingers ache from cold and I worry,

They may not come back from their aching,

To allow me to play my guitar string.

This cold, cold wind is sent by Lucifer,

From the cold nether world of his northern dominion,

If I ever do meet him, I want to remind him of this day,

The day my digits froze so much I thought they would fall off,

This cold brought forth from the time of the Herculean winters.

Not sure if it is colder outside or in,

So I don’t think it a sin,

If I was to grin,

At the thought of wearing my fur-lined buckskin.

I surely would be warmer, but my digits, may not,

As my buckskin only covers my upper torso.

I have lined jeans for my legs and thick socks for my feet,

But very little to keep my digits from cracking and falling apart,

Like that of ice in what used to be a puddle,

Under the pressure of a foot,

But I guess I will just have to through it all, muddle…

                                                          (ed)