We turned the lights out
in the front room
so we would be able to see
out into the night.

The sun set a bit
earlier than yesterday,
since its leaving
the frost has been spider-webbing
across the front window,

obscuring our view
as it melds with the heat
from our breath to further
crystalize the pane,
adding fractals
to distort the snowy reflection
of a street light’s glow.

The walk is covered in white,
but we watch, and wait.


for Margo Roby’s prompt for a “winter” poem



Filed under Poetry

3 responses to “Waiting

  1. Your title gives us the essence of winter: waiting for warmth, for renaissance, to start living again. The vividness of your word picture is surprising, given that we are at mid-summer!

  2. I like the idea of the window pane that separates the speaker from outside, making it the focus[?] between here and there.

  3. “adding fractals” Oh, I like that.

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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