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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.