Hazel's Alone Poem by r james sterzinger

the clock
in the kitchen
reminds me
that I am alone
again
and ever again
the quiets seeps in.

I need a cup of tea.

the only thing that whistles
at me anymore
is the teapot...
the only thing
that shows any warmth.

I feel as alone
as the winter chickadee
nestled in the bayberry
watching the woods
silently fill with snow.

as lonely as any Christ on a crucifix
face contorted, weeping
my face against the window pane
the chickadee remains
the world turns white.
my breath fogs the glass.

the crush of winter cold
of being alone
is seeping in my bones...

and my tea is ready.