The Secret of Winters
A corner of the room,
away from the window,
but not so far away
that the light is lost.
This is where you read yourself,
listening to the wind outside
as it seeks to break through the cracks
time leaves in even the best of walls.
But not today. Today the warmth
comes from within,
a fire you learned to stoke long ago
when you were in danger of freezing.
Not today. You have learned the secret
of winters, learned all its tricks,
learned all its lies, learned
that you are tougher than you look – or feel.
And so you read yourself like an old book
with new stories, full of twists and turns
and a cast of characters you never could have invented
on your own.
About this poem
Don’t read too much into it. I just had some spare time at the end of the workday and played with words a while. This is what came out.