Firelight looks through the window,
watching for me to come home
to herbal tea and books and dogs.
Yet here I am in freezing cold
to slog through snow
so I can reach a door that’s
always locked.
It’s best that I stay warm and dry
and love the lonely hours
when miracles, those tiny things
like herbal tea and books and dogs
miss me when I’m gone.
published in Write Under the Moon
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