I trench my feet in suede
which the snow will surely bite
The crass cold air will break my breath
spreading it thinly across the morning
Busy business awaits past the white walled highways
while December works well to wash routine
Underneath the sheets wife lies warm and waiting
as the frosted dawn peeks through the brittle shades
Shovels crack the caked wax cloudy water
pushed aside, pushed aside
Crack the car door gently, turn the key
Sigh amongst the wintered ice.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment