Catch

The wind bit hard, a sudden tooth

against my neck, a bitter sting.

I fumbled, pulled, a frantic sooth

for cold the fabric couldn't bring

across the metal. Halfway up,

the teeth just halted, rough and dry.

My fingers strained, a shallow cup

of effort, as the grey clouds high

above just watched. A small, cold gap

along my chest, a foolish rip

in what should be a winter wrap.

It would not close, nor would it slip.