Dried rosemary drape above woven green baskets
The tea kettle’s whistle flickers in and out through steam
Wood stove kindling crack and hiss
Dog barks, then lies his face back into the throw, repeated.
She walks bare foot on top wooden floors, in white
Her milky toes prance delicately and she fixes herself a cup of tea.
Outside snow falls soft and the yard is empty except for old trees and an unfinished shed—she stares at the window–examining herself, forcing herself to stay afloat the bewilderment
Her eyes meet her eyes and she begins to sob lightly.
Colored lights from the after Christmas day tree still glisten bright and her fingers tap, tap lightly on the pines.
Needles fall, she sips her tea. Looks to the top of the tree
Wooden beams criss cross her picture and she sways to the sounds of women singing—reminding her this will only last a little longer.
She sips her tea and sinks deep into her repeated daydream