I’m waiting for the storm
You promised ice
That music that I love
Tap tap against the morn
You promised snow
A dizzying sky
The flakes so big and round
A wind so fast and wild
That one is carried North
Upon the sound
I’m stubborn in my bed
I wait for all that you declared
Would be my waking scene
But lo
No blizzard roars
No maelstrom worried skies
No bluster at the pane
No tempest at my door
And sadly thus
I must get going on the day

Sara Mathews     January 2022

Artwork ~ Viktor Mikhailovich Vasnetsov