Looker Poem by Joe Kelley

When the door slams,

you can't feel your hands. 

Even the stone cracks

after  long months of being frozen in ill-content. 

Stiff breeze glides across the floor 

connects to a foot and cuts to the bone. 

A crystal clear ice chandelier

Fades away as each drip unable

to hold its own escapes,

falling alone till it meets what has fell before it

and runs over a step and inevitably off the porch

into a stream.  

Glancing out the window. 

A stare wishing to see what isn't there.

 Then glare,  imagine the future

with games of natures  magnificent show and tell.  

Satisfied with basics, turn around. 

Snows blown under now covers ground.

 Listen to the kettle sing.

Remove from flame to hear it cry. 

Hands throb from a hot mug,

cupped between fingers

aching to not be numb.

Throbbing till all the tea is sipped gone.  

Grasp your collar its come undone.

A tiny stone button lies in the way.

Now heat escapes

till cold again.