The day is without motion, all is quiet
The smoke across the valley rises straight
And in the silent room that is my kitchen
I sit and nurse my tea and slowly wait.
I careful move, not to disturb the silence
The frost is hard and the brittle grass is white
I sit and chill within the silent garden
The sunshine has no heat, just frozen light
As slow as moss, I move back to the kitchen
And breathe while waiting for my heart to fill
One day I’ll thaw and rattle through the hours
Till then the light, the day and I are still.
