the cold

how quiet this bug
is, sneaking
into one's life.
no fear of being
found, no prejudice
or slight
in it's choosing.
the high and mighty,
the low and beaten
are both equals
to it's bite.
bringing forth
the sneeze, the drip
and drizzle
of all noses
across this kingdom
whether crown upon
a royal head or
in the field
bent over the stiff
plow, shaded
by a straw hat,
both stopping to
kneel and blow
at it's might.