Morning Thought Poem by Tom Harding

More snow just when we were

looking to get on with our lives,

now the pipes have frozen

and I spend the morning

drinking coffee in the kitchen

watching a blackbird

pecking through the drifting snow

of the courtyard

as if looking for something lost.

There's an emptiness I can't shift

and a dissatisfaction that says

when I'm working I should be relaxing

and when I'm relaxing

it feels like a type of death.

There's only relief in a realization that says

I will never overcome such thoughts,

better instead to drink the coffee

and watch the snow fall,

beautiful as it is momentarily

blanking everything out.