There is no room between the window and curtains to dream
No space to breathe big breaths
The house is dark like rain that falls in the night
Within the bricks winter is packed to the bare bones
Dim corners sigh, starving for air
Outside a flat sky lies
Distant grey stands over
Clouds roll like trains of steam along the white teeth of the valley
They lick the morning and bite into the low sun of the short day
No space to walk without mud
No space to scream between sweaters and coats
Wet wind blows low without stirring the stars
And the browns of Autumn's death rise in the yard
The weight of each day being the next pushes in
Against the cold glass I lean to look out
Rain drops lean back
Empty sidewalks and naked trees
Winter's white has faded and aged
There is no room here to turn around
No space to retreat
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