My First Real Winter

The rain beat down in double time
In comparison to the metronome like drip
Of droplets in stainless steel pans
Smoke casts shadows over lined paper
Ash falls like snow flakes, settling gently
Elegies scratched deep into the table surface
Remind us of times lesser alone
Torn between a warm bed and warmer drinks
Regrets get swept to the back of the mind
There's no time for second guessing
Once the deed has been done
Let's pray that July holds something brighter
In it's bleak atmosphere
The dotted lines of city lights remain unchanged
A point of view that's missing the point
We always miss the point

First appeared at Ink, Sweat and, the poetry & prose webzine. (UK)