moisture on the windows
sun entering
soft this time of year
outside a bird calls out
not once
or twice
i do not know when it began
i do not know when it will end
moon behind clouds
arrives to show her face
winter has given us bare trees
they reach upwards
to her
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
