I remember now why I always thought
winter
was the loneliest of the seasons
We're slipping back into it...
Not even
a sleepy bar room waltz
can make me feel better
or warm this room
that I sit in
And it is indeed
cold with no one here
But I've been writing again
No, I haven't been eating
But I'll get there
someday
Maybe when the snow lifts

b.m.c.