waking up to morning dew
Frozen like a block of ice
Have a need for something to chew
But to poor to pay the price
Eyes are crusted over and weary of sight
Thoughts of waking seem exhausting
Won't draw the curtains; sun too bright
Warming up and defrosting
YOU ARE READING
The Atrium
PoesiaAs the river of life flows right through, collecting at the delta towards the Atrium of my soul
