Stuck at 60

I check the thermometer,

it’s stubbornly still at sixty,

like the moments I hesitate,

watching time trickle down,

every tick a promise unfulfilled,

a vow to chase the sun.

It hangs, mocking, on the wall,

my breath fogs the glass,

words hang thick in the air,

every degree a call to change,

but still, I linger, rooted,

echoes of warmth fading.