Poem: I Thought I Knew Cold

This poem is fairly confused; as I was writing it, it sprouted half a dozen directions. Now, I'm not sure where it's going but I'm trying my best not to get in the way.
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I Thought I Knew Cold

i lived twenty-five years of my life
without knowing the cold;
only met in passing
midnight in december
over the semi-feral charles
the howls whipping up waves
lashing across cheeks
forehead pained to wrinkles
but i didn't know cold
until i saw the look on your face

i had a cold patient once
26 degrees centigrade
his heart beating a nippy day
his brain an ambient room
blankets piled on
fluids in, fluids out;
after we toasted him
and revived his alcoholic mind
he threw shiners at anyone
who'd get close enough
i thought i knew cold

we tied him down
trussed like a turkey
and only the nurses knew
how to free him;
i had to cut through the knots
when he started seizing
trying to swim up from bed
to disengage those anchors
and i had thought that was cold

a week in intensive care
and another month
and you had our benediction
hospital volunteers rustled
up a retired coat;
that's how i recognized you
by your coat, not your face
but seeing that foreign face of cold
i pelted fast as i could
only to watch you hurl oblong
into that good night.