Untitled

Deathly wind shakes the furnace
Faces glimmer from the fire
Long time coming
I want that feeling
Proud to be bothered by little ones

Though inevitably changed
Neither better or worse
A responsibility that dwarfs any other
Owed to the ones loved most

And for that brief moment
In the eye of the storm
I stand alone
Not neglectful, but oblivious
Staring nature in the face
And facing a formidable force

Seeing nothing but white in the darkness
That brief moment vanishes
You wait but for the next
With the ones that you love most

The last drop of wine climbs back down the glass
Reaching out for tomorrow
And settles in the puddle below
Still though shaking
At the foot of who towers below