Rhythm

The days now only suggest an end. Everything seems to continue in a familiar rhythm. We don't notice much that happens, and we feel that things must be fine. The cold brings a long sting to our faces, but we expect it. The feeling isn't new. And soon the snow will melt and we'll embrace the gradual warmth of spring. Still, I feel we'll stay put, the seasons a frame around our constancy, the colours and temperatures changing as we wonder, without will, how to move.