winter mind
winter mind.
soft. Low hum of the heater.
Snow blankets the gray, and
Gray blankets the snow
A compromise between the weather and God.
I sit at my desk by a candle’s easy light.
My mind railing against my head.
What am I doing wrong.
What is wrong with me.
I eat,
I study,
I walk,
I write,
I sleep.
There must be more.
There is more out there than some half melted snowflakes clinging to my shoe.