Winter Text

The lake of cold winter,
froze beyond the glass.
I turn away, I click the brass lamp.
Close curtains, sit.
I think, a bit.

You glow and say hello.
The rapping table says so.

I'm alone.
Oak door.
The stone floored hall,
and kitchen cold.
The red coal fire old;
but you're here.
You're in my phone.
Far away and in my home.

I love each letter
clicked and sent.
Fingers bent with love's delight.
Tapping speech in pure blue light,
spoken through the ice ink night.
A flight of you to say you're safe.
To pray sweet dreams with fingers flexed.
A wafer tonic made of text.
Goodnight my love,
and ex ex ex.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.