• Sitting on a hard grey chair,
    In an empty house, and
    Waiting.

    Waiting for the clouds to break,
    To sift and shower snow.

    Nothing left to pass the time,
    No cure for being
    Bored.

    Bored with dry and dull routine,
    And waiting for the snow.

    Listening, listening for clouds to open,
    But they all seem
    Frozen.

    Frozen, still in time and place, and
    Frozen, packed with snow.

    Sighing, sinking, staring at
    The ceiling, bare and
    White.

    White and stark and cold,
    And colder than a moonless night.

    Slipping off to sleep,
    Still feeling restless, feeling
    Hopeless.

    Hopeless, hope yet lost too soon!
    Waiting through the afternoon,
    Closed up in that dreary room,
    Sleeping till the rising moon,


    I'd missed the falling snow.