Poetry from the book Lion and the Sun by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

                       The cold finger of the fog
              It reaches out and touches the heart
                  Turns the bones of a man cold
               The finger twists and turns inside
                    Bone crusher, cold miser
              The tips of your fingers go numb
              Your grip on your paddle loosens
            Your hands are frosted to the paddle
       You do a mind battle till you hit the shore
        Even your big toe starts to feel the cold
                  You do a tap dance below
       Like an animal made out of a snow cone
     The fog creeps and covers the wooded cliffs
                        It hides everything
       You're left with your compass and ears.

Poetry from the book {The Lion and the Sun} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas