alone in the house in winter by john grey

Out of gray and mournful sky,

a month’s snow falls in a day.

Birds don’t dare leave their roosts.

Not even the fastest of them

can fly between the flakes.

With ice in its engine,

the wind is sharp.

Dead leaves attempt to ride

the billowing to escape,

but are mercilessly tamped down.

Rabbits nibble on

the last of a garden.

Mice burrow down

wherever the earth will have them.

The house sends

smoke signals out the chimney

from the fire I light.

The warmth of the flame

barely extends beyond my rubbing hands.

6 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

writer interview with chloe yelena miller

Palmer Smith: When did you first start writing? Have you always known you wanted to be a poet? ​ Chloe Yelena Miller: I remember complaining that I was bored one summer as a child, and my dad told me

the recanting of ternion by kelly gray

Place us in a 63 white Mercedes, doing a slow swim across an interstate that looks like every highway we’ve already seen in film class. Place him as the driver, and even though I lay sideways with her

manila by gabrielle astrid

brush your teeth and take your contacts out before the water turns off at 10pm fill plastic bins with water like an IV drip drip so you can flush the toilet in the middle of the night when you can’t s

  • Instagram

© 2020 by Opal Literary Journal.