I stare out my window.
A blanket of frost covers the frozen ground,
sparkling and shimmering against the
youthful morning sun.
My breath comes in clouds.
The windows steam up in my presence, crying
fresh tears with every blow: they trickle
down to my waiting hankie.
Watching, listening, it's all calm.
I want to go out to the garden; touch the
leaves, shining with dewy sequins that
capture the sun everywhere.
But it's cold out there.
My warm skin prickles in protest at the mere
thought of my feet touching the icy ground,
gasping with every breath.
I hug my gown closer.
The time has come for me to leave my
ring-side seat: the morning spectacle is
over, and bed is calling me back.
29.10.09
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