Snowflakes in my coffee cup
the stillness in my heart fills up
The clouds hang thick
and branches sprawl
the skyline dead in silver mist
the chill creeps to the marrow of my frozen finger bones
but my coffee cup, still warm.
Like a place I called my home.
It was summer once inside its doors
our laughing feet had danced its floors
in hope-filled beds my children sleep
while dinner’s dishes graced the sink.
Not again will I fear noise or mess,
or things I thought went “wrong”.
While sufferings come, the seasons change
-like snowflakes, melt with warmth.