Rough grit of pseudo winter: mud and dead trees

echo

down the clogged streets of a town with

no good coffee shops-only fast food and convenience stores.

We stay huddled in our cars gazing at the sky and wishing for magic,

if even in the form of fresh falling snow buds.

No sweet pangs to write- onlydismal

crawl back under the sheets and hope for darkness.

______

The new puppy comes on Saturday-

no expectations

but a warm ball to hold. meanwhile the horses continue their optimism, know well and await Spring warm ground

while the cats race in and out of the house, clearly bored

My head aches with boredom

my ears ring

and the sky is dull. 

If I could step into a catatonic chamber and breathe sweet nothingness it would seem better than this constant fight. 

____ 

He won’t go to community service today-

too depressed.

I’m too tired to fight.

He lays on the couch in his boots and snores-

angry with the world

while I seek refuge from his storm.