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