when winter comes

it’s never easy taking little steps, careful steps,
to keep from slipping on the ice,
the distance from the car to the doorstep never seemed
too far as it does today,
and leaving the heated car is difficult
as you watch the falling snow,
but you heave a sigh as you turn the engines off
and do so anyway,
knowing that inside the heater still has to be turned on,
and the lights are still off,
and the shadows of the silence of these empty walls
are long and lonesome;
but you go in anyway,
flipping the switches, chasing the dark away
to the corners where they belong,
and the hiss of the faucet is a welcome noise
as you take out whats for dinner and prepare,
missing the usual hectic pace of toddlers
playing around your knees
or calling to you from across the room,
it’s almost impossible to turn the faucet off,
knowing the inevitable wait in store;
instead you put on some music,
while outside the white sheet thickens on the ground,
and tinkering around the living room your eyes
inevitably wander to the telephone
that does not ring,
you return to the kitchen and help yourself
to some warm soup and stew,
hot cocoa and the last apple on the table,
it warms your belly but keeps your heart cold
with a distant longing you never expected,
but you take a deep breath,
remembering that even eaglets leave the nest,
and yet the lofty aeries remain with their echoes,
fond memories that do not leave
even when winter comes.

——
this poem is dedicated to my dad, to cheer him up a little with jojo’s move. cheer up pa! : )

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