Frozen


I am sitting in my favourite armchair
The cold wrapped around me like a blanket
Why isn’t it warm?
Through my window, 
I see my neighbours pelmet of icicles
Hanging from the guttering
Snow wrapped around the house
Falling now flakes growing larger
Cold patterns the window
I hear my husband’s voice
Why are you sitting in the cold?
He is about to find out
I had forgotten to turn the heating on
I cannot move, I am frozen
I take his last words with me
As my soul leaves
I have been gone for three days
How long have you been sitting here?

© Anita Dawes 2021