When the heat pump needs to ramp up
on a chilly night my thoughts turn
to you keeping yourself warm
in the lounge we shared last winter
with a real fire,
but the bellows stayed on the hearth then
when no squeeze of gifted breath kept it’s spark alive
our union discarded in the smothered embers
I keep my own refuge of warmth now
there has been a determined move
of a window released from it’s newly oiled hinge
as even solitude requires a flow of air
Dew Drop Inn 