Hymn for a Winter Morning


For indrawn breath at the chill

Beyond the covers,

For feet finding floor.

For the dusty furnace rumble

And the warm shush through the vents.


For windowpanes cloudy, condensed

Where the first rays  paint

Our coziness within, frost without.

For pen and ink tree etchings

Frozen against the lightening gallery of sky.


For the brown and bitter grace of coffee,

For butter melting into toasted bread,

For crumb-dusted fingertips licked clean.


For candle wax left sculpted

By last night’s flames.

For my love’s hands,

Knotting his tie, tying up shoes.

For lunch boxes banging against boy knees

In a dash into the cold, into the day.


For being the one left waving,

Slippered, on the doorstep.

For the swept span of a house made quiet

For hymn-singing.


4 thoughts on “Hymn for a Winter Morning

  1. Ruthi

    oh my goodness! that was beautiful! I have been busy and not breathing this morning. When I came here and read your first words, “from indrawn breath” I stopped and took a couple deep breaths and then read your hymn out loud… slowly. Medicine for the soul. Thank you Missy!


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