The Sixth of January by David Budbill

Post Series: Poetry Thursday

The Sixth of January

by David Budbill


The cat sits on the back of the sofa looking

out the window through the softly falling snow

at the last bit of gray light.


I can’t say the sun is going down.

We haven’t seen the sun for two months.

Who cares?


I am sitting in the blue chair listening to this stillness.

The only sound: the occasional gurgle of tea

coming out of the pot into the cup.


How can this be?

Such calm, such peace, such solitude

in this world of woe.

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