Wintry Silence

Limping on in the middle of the night,
I think of my children huddled by the fire,
reading books and stroking the kittens.

I think of my wife, bustling around,

my home, the smell of fresh biscuits;

those butter biscuits that melt on your tongue.

My home with all its warmth;

my family, together.

"Wish I was home!"

I say to myself aloud,

while I limp on, on this chilly night.

Do they ever think of me I wonder? My children.

Do they deem me a worthy father?

Do they wish my sofa by their fire wasn't empty?

Do they wish I had stayed?

Ah! Winter rekindles old memories.

This hanging silence, this cutting chill,
this empty street awaken the past.

Bearing the weight of fresh snow, the fence 

watches as I limp on amid 

this silence.

This naked, cold, wintry silence.