Sunday, January 30, 2011

White Sunday


Strangely cheery
Yet dully and dreary
Almost eerie;
A morning for thinking
And hot-tea drinking,

A morning for letting go softly,
Thunder sirens lightning
Headlights streetlights shoplights
Flash and howl.

Looking up at white, white skies,
Gray at the horizon,
Borders blending in my eyes.

A dark cozy house,
I cuddle up like a mouse
Behind a large window,
Safe and meek and quiet,
With a book,
I look on.

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