Cold

The fire is dead
there is no coal
the electric heater
sits off in the corner
air hangs cold
listless misty breath
chills sallow face
of hands stuck in gloves
with body wrapped
in old dressing gown
over knitted jumper.

The milk is dead
it went off days ago
freezing outside
paths are ice
the body it sits
it contemplates
hurting aching
stiff with pain
the light goes off
but no one comes
the door is closed.