Central Heating

Goosebumps under my clothes
The penetrating cold of a student home
Maintenance doesn't cover rent
So what warmth can we afford?

Haiku 7

My hands smell of smoke,
The wood fire warmed us, our souls
Ignited by flame.

Haiku 6

Winter surrounds me, 

Its cold breath runs down my spine.

Spring, Fall, Summer lie.

The Sun

The Sun.
Burning low against the horizon.
Twelve o'clock
Twelve degrees.
What warmth!
What warmth?
Negative is the air,
Clear the skies,
For the Sun to make way,
For the moon.
As night begins as the day starts.
In the city that I am calling,
My home.