Canadian hot cocoa in a Canadian winter storm.

The chill outside becomes creaks in my rooms

I can’t think anything of it, harmless winds loom

As I stay warm with my steady warm fire

Now that heater works to confirm my comfort!

It does it all subconsciously, like a second nature.

Its job, of course, is to stay alive, for sure,

but I never expect its last long label to be a liar.

I thought I don’t know what I would do if she breaks!

I’d be so frozen and immobile, so many colds id catch!

Would I have to make my own fire from a match?

The rooms would be so dry I’d need a humidifier!

But the rumble from the boiler shook my soul

As if in an instant, the Canadian chill drowned my room

It was horrifying and shocking and unnerving but soon

I created my own furnace inside, got me moving, and started a new fire.