Melancholy

It’s been snowing three days but the snow won’t stick.

The warmth indoors fogs the kitchen window

And your patience grows shorter than the candle’s wick,

Shorter than daylight in the months of winter.

You can look at family albums, do the dishes, weave,

Or meditate by yourself in front of the television,

But you still feel the draft, which makes your teeth

Drown out the rattle of doors and dishes.

You can drink hot chocolate beneath a blanket, or

Stare into the fireplace till you’re calm and nerveless,

Still the silhouette that your body casts on the floor

Trembles more than the amber flames in the furnace.

You can leaf through calendars to your soul’s content,

But, alas, even time can’t ease you of this melancholy

Since the anguish you feel reaches deeper than

The wind’s sharpest chill, deeper than winter’s folly.