on this sort of day

 

On a day when there the snow falls without a whisper

fat flakes catching light and slowly piling white,

on a day when the furnace burns steadily

a soothing roar of air and heat,

on this sort of day when I kick my legs over the side of the bed

and the first steps ache in my knees, my back,

but by the time I have my t-shirt on

and,

one step at a time, make it down the stairs to the kitchen

with only a little creaking of ligaments in my feet 

to match the creaking in the old wood,

and,

with a cup of steaming coffee I can sit at the table

by the window.

It is on these sorts of days

that is surprises me how little

I wish for youth again. 

YouTube: https://youtu.be/FbaspS2aqT8

Audio: https://anchor.fm/honest-chaos/episodes/On-This-Sort-of-Day-erm8th