In my special little corner of the room,
Darkness creeps across the floor
It's dark, but I wouldn't call it gloom
I have seen it much darker before...
Sunlight swept away by nature's broom
No use asking her to send any more
Spider spinning in a corner with its loom,
As a cool draft filters beneath the door...
North wind rattles windows, sounds so cold
Potbelly stove pops from cedar chips
Sudden gust, wintry weather is taking hold
Tree outside my window slowly strips...
In southern parlance, a blue norther coming
Or more accurately has already arrived
One can detect it in the power lines strumming
Or in the dust swirling, seeming to come alive...
Wintry cold continually seeps under my door
Yes I could fix it but I enjoy the cooling feel
Temperature keeps dropping more and more
And more and more I know I'm really real......
Dec 3 2008
Vote for this poem
|Please Comment On This Poem