The morning cloaked in darkness,
Wind sings soft sounds outside.
Wrap the covers over heads,
Curled into balls laid still.

Snuggled hearing beating hearts,
Warm is the drink in your hand.
Steam breaks the cold embrace
Of air made frozen all around.

Food that calls the voice within,
Heats the soul it goes down.
Laugher echoes through the space,
Fills the home with fire.

One early morning calls the silence,
These Empty walls bring a chill.
The home once seen burning,
Cold as ice it now lays still.
© J.D.L