
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