orgami's Diaryland Diary

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Winstons house

the cold moon
filling the window
in the attic the frost
snaps the beams
outside everything glitters
and town lights burn like
topaz

the woodstove whistles
craving air and the hot
illumination lights up
my basement bed
my room of lost meaning

kindling and pages from
novels sacrificed and the
wooden matchs Seal safety
matchs this heat
runs through me
the chimney rumbles contented
the ash hissing from just last
fall bubbling when I open the
door on the split sticks I toss
on the embers and the beautiful
waves of heat

sit on the bed
feeling the drafts running
down the walls like ghosts against
the barren blocks

lay back under the blankets
staring up at the window
and all the stars I can count
in this little rectangle
the frost on the doorhinges

fall asleep and in the dream
its raining and im curled
up with my rainjacket pulled
over me im in the feild
and I can feel the open sky
pressing down on me
feel the darkness
sliding through the mown hay
and I moan
and the fire hushs me back
to sleep

and a star falls but Im
not looking and i dont
get a wish

10:15 p.m. - 2010-12-31

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