Am I ever truly happy?
When winter is warm and lovely.
When the heat didn't need to come on
and the house was cozy. I complained.
What about the sugaring season? Sleepless
nights. Racing heart attacks with every bursting bud.
Now it's cold. Freezing. And I'm sleeping.
Sleeping long and hard. Under warm waves
tumbling comforters and blankets.
Days open without my eyes.
Huddled in the warmth of my bed
I miss my morning walks. I miss the
sunrise. I miss the quiet.
And I'm complaining.
When is happiness?
2 comments:
You capture, quite nicely, a universal truth. I ADORE the last line: "When is happiness?"
Hey, I could swear I saw frozen sap dangling 20 feet overhead from my maple tree today.
I thought of you right away.
MBY
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