Record Lows

This had started off
With something bitter to say
About the cold getting hold
Of the words, mine to say
And how tunneling winds
Could begin a bad day,
But I found your name around my neck.
In the patterned fabric and little specks
Of little fuzz that would buzz and drop dead
And find final rest on the nest of my head.
It hung like a noose for the mute
In the angles most acute,
But for now it keeps me warm,
Hoping you will follow suit.