We are cold here,
in this desolate living room -
4 years during which we have not moved.

And therefore are we invisible,
like each molecule of water in a stream
over the course of 10 miles and 10 winters.

But again we feel the cycle,
at its tepid termination;
the darkness will engulf it all -
only to give rise to a solitary seed of light,
from which another cycle begets itself.

And so, through this dark path,
we remain watching,
aloof yet aware,
in the corners of the musty air
in this forgotten home.