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.
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