in the early morning
i rise to let the cat outside
it had been calling out
and in my sleep
i heard it
the floor boards
are cold
and creak
as i walk on them
the sky is
pale
the air frigid
the cat and i both pause
for a moment
in the doorway
in our own way
each of us take
in the stillness
The sun behind the curtains
They glow
Crimson
It just takes moving them
Pushing aside to be bathed
wind through the pines
a soft whisper
somewhere a dog barks
the wind stops
then continues again
wind moves conifers
branches dance
their tops such a
deep green
the pale underside
surprises me
Shadow of eyes
What old man stands here
Heat rises
Cold evening
i was unaware the snow
had fallen overnight
my sleep and dreams
as such
away
somewhere away
dusk
too early
night
too long
nostalgia from childhood
decorating gingerbread houses
then a young boy
now
once more
with you
older with thin hair
and such rough hands
but with you
