It dropped upon all of us like
the cold dough of a drop biscuit
The baking is up to you
build a fire, soup on the stove,
sipping the steam off of a mug
of coffee,
hot shower
The shovel waits in quiet reserve near
the front door
Winter is not supposed to be here
But someone forgot to tell her
I pull out the cookie sheet
The cold dough
Transformed
Into the golden brown
Moments of my day
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
It dropped upon all of us like
the cold dough of a drop biscuit
The baking is up to you
build a fire, soup on the stove,
sipping the steam off of a mug
of coffee,
hot shower
The shovel waits in quiet reserve near
the front door
Winter is not supposed to be here
But someone forgot to tell her
I pull out the cookie sheet
The cold dough
Transformed
Into the golden brown
Moments of my day
