Edges

Frost lines the edges of our days,

encasing them with torpor,

lacing us with eagerness for warmth,

of which there is enough, still, in the middles,

for us to work, for us to dream

And in the morning and the evening,

fire is our friend —

it takes the edge off,

fills us with ease again.

©Wendy Mulhern

October 28, 2019