This small hut is closing in, on me
anxious energy burning within
the boring stale air
the household chores
contemplating the dirty bed sheets
that litter my floor
the broken record of weather, news, skipping
frozen in time
snowbound blues, all boxed in
NOT amused.
Over-consumption
stuffing my moods
with winter’s brew and howling winds
pacing this room, milking
the season, dry teats depleted
shriveled with fever
icy bones re-heating the leftovers
of last night’s abhorrent gloom
feeding my anticipation of
winter’s impending doom.
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Hi there ,I cant realize english very well, but it was good.many thanks
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