As I look out the window now and see

A light grey, hazy sky - looking back at me

From which drizzles light flakes not formed

Which will turn into snow as cold scorns



The air, and temperatures do plummet

Something I feel in my bones as I hum it

The song of a lonely poet with much verse

Tied together with ribbons somewhat terse



And the cold air screams thru from hearth

As the broken flue reminds me of its scars

From many blazing fires started under it

With crumpled-up paper and twigs I lit



To warm my heart and body in times past

When dew did freeze upon window glass

And logs I brought in from the cold ground

Then crackled as they caught - a lovely sound



And as I watched, the flickers then turned to flame

As the warmth seeped over me, and the pure gain

Which engulfed me - warmed my soul to the brim

As fire finally raged, then I knew my aching limbs



Would subside as the glow shooed away the pain

And my arms and legs seemed to forget, once again

All of the damage I'd done to them in times long past

When I was young and free and felt I was Elastoplast



Which would automatically heal whatever it covered

Cuts, gashes, broken bones, all those things smothered

By the feeling I could do anything and was invincible

But that was long ago ... and now I feel irreparable



Some broken bones which never healed quite right

Fill me with pain as cold seeps in to make me tight

And muscles which were pulled so far out of place

Then shiver and tremor as nerves cause 'em to shake



And I wish deeply I had those years to live over again

For I'd not abuse my body so, as I did when I trained

To become the person I did so badly want then to be

Before the course of my life turned, to make me not free



Christopher W. Thomas

11:20am Saturday 12/27/97