Cold

Bone tired and breaking,
cold creeps in under the unattended doors
and around the places where warmth disappears.

Pull the colorful quilt high
and nuzzle into the tottering pile of pillows
where the wind cannot touch you tonight.

Wait for the sound of pots pulled from the cupboards
and the smell of coffee and toast
before you crawl from your dreaming at dawn.

Pray that the breaking of the day
will make haste for love
and for the forgiveness of sunshine.