in front of a full glass door window, looking out on the backyard…

in front of a full glass door window, looking out on the backyard…

Photo by Julia Volk on Pexels.com

the winter wind bites
makes no sound
except through my bamboo
the only leaves left

I see limbs bend and move
I listen for their aches n groans
(as in my bones)
the grass is stopped
frozen

even the sun-
even the sun is drained
bright, illuminated on surfaces
but cold
as if the moon had a forest – once
slowly exhaling

inside, so quiet now
so many voices
but so quiet now
the isolation of flame
so gather
the few that remain,
huddle, huddle with me