The House

The house is still and quiet nothin moves or stirs but for the occupant and little dog within; a sip if coffee, dark roasted and hot together, we enjoy and observe life with the yard on display thru the sliding door, early February clings to winter icy cold and frozen stiff rain, snow mix, sleet falling hard on the earth; the furnace hums spewing heat warming the cold of a long mid-winter keeping the pipes from a freeze over; not a sound other than ticking of the clock no creeks or cracklings of life an abandonment of time and space, alone in the silence of the morning unoccupied dreams and memories revive, closed windows and doors keep us safe and warm here, wihin the house.