Soliloquy: one.

The wind howls gently
Through the crack under our
Front door, but inside
We are warm from the Christmas
Lights and the night’s peaceful
Glow.

So much love fills our comfortable
Space, and I am grateful
For this place that I can call
My own.

One writes a poem under the thicket
Of a blanket, while the other
Laughs softly from the end of the sofa.
Hoping to fill my hands with joy,
I sprinkle color on my fingertips.

My hair is wet.

Outside our little room,
The rain streaks the cement,
And the pent-up anger of the world
Showers the ground with growling cold.

Inside our little room,
The lamplight holds us close,
And we peacefully repose
In the rest of our God.

Here,
The fear has thawed.

12.9.18