I Sat Alone

Awoke late that morning
I crossed mudded fields
down into the furrows of my hands
I thought of my past

Fingertips grew colder
it began to snow
frost sifted through time worn cracks
a door of wood that stood barely open
among the falling walls
dead leaves lay within
wind whispering sounds of children’s play
in waves of rising breaths

I did everything that day
by doing nothing
I sat alone
with someone.

Jeff Berner©
2000