Some times this is a place for tears
Winter rubs itself in your face
with its smells of smoke and wood,
decaying leaves and fresh water,
cold mornings when everything slows down
to a crawl.
Some days loneliness follows you around
like a shadow
wont let you go
no matter if you lick and kiss
or shrug and kick
or offer it a polite smile...
And you pray for the Sun to return
and for warm arms to cry in
where you can safely gather yourself.
And you notice how connected you are
to the sunny days of life and joy and hope
and the still overcast ones
when it is cold with the door open
but it is stale with it closed shut
and so you watch the power leak
out of the cracks of your house,
cradling your own dead arms
as the tears fall
on some days
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