Frozen light on windows
the night a lifetime away
deep sea sirens
and thunder calling
ice covered rooftops
shiny as whale hide

Taking my time
with domestic chores
filling my hours with rhymes
counting down
to the minute
no one calls
no knock or footsteps
no crunch of fresh snow
no spoor

The distant thrum
of the generator
this pencil scratching paper
no birds, no bears
ten thousands moments the same
to the inevitable moon
and interminable night

Then the lighting of lanterns
and candles
curtains and covers drawn
fire alight
and these ninety-nine words
no solace, no warmth

Patrik Gryst


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