Morning

She is still asleep
Though the soft
Grey light of dawn
Peeks though the
Open window curtains
As I type silently
Listening to her
Breathing wondering
What she is dreaming.
The sky is heavy with
Snow and rain silhouetting
A tall pine and bare elm
Black against the grey,
I hear the heat kick on
And her breathing changes.
She rolls onto her back
Touches her face pulling
Up covers and settles
Back into slumber,
Never waking up.
She sleeps safe and
Reaches one hand out
To hold y arm then
Settles back breathing
The slow sleep pace,
No owl HU HU’s to wake
Her and neither should
I so this poem is done.