Triptych



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Window to Winter

Can you close the window?
It covers us in snow
Father leaves it agape
And our breath takes its shape

Father says it’s just right
And it lets in the light
His whiskey keeps him warm
While we survive the storm

Baby Lily cries, cold
Susan’s blue fingers fold
And my shoulders shudder
We stare at the shutters

Father thinks we feel his warmth
But we only see storms
His rage, we feel the blow
Will you close the window?

Urban Exploration

What do you think would happen
When you pulled the curtain closed
Nobody can see inside but
Still everyone knows

Hiding in the cooler
Smoking on your break
Remembering your latest nightmare
Trapped beneath a frozen lake

Wondering where you can go
Wondering how to get there
Is this all you were meant to be
Or would you ever dare

The storm is blowing harder
Your time is running out
You won’t be able to get away
If you’re buried in your doubt

Don’t you see what’s happening?
Morning might one day come
A harsh wind is blowing in
But the night has just begun

Don’t you see what you’re doing?
The Sun might grace the sky
The clouds grey obliterate
What once was warm and bright

Is this all you were meant to be?
Is there more inside to come?
This bridge burning is dangerous
When there's no where left to run

I realize now that you can't help
What refuses to be fixed
Lay your insides out for me
So I can heal this itch

This pain you feel is not your own,
It resides in some division
These cockroaches crawling out
Are blurring out your vision

Side by side, the dying light
Falling apart, the tendons frey
Your time will end tonight
Your time will slip away

Lunette

Obsidian fenestration
In a matte of whitewashed wind
A flat pane portal into the dark
Out of the blizzard, you descend

Your eyes adjust to the black below
To find us clutching at our sheets
We shiver as we see your silhouette
This lunette lets out the heat

There’s nothing left to burn
The meat will rot, the milk will turn
Our father throws his bottle at a peep
And drinks himself to sleep

My sisters and I are buried in snow
And while I don’t want you to know
I need to ask, ‘cause it’s ten below
Will you close the window?



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