winter mind

winter mind.

soft. Low hum of the heater.

Snow blankets the gray, and

Gray blankets the snow

A compromise between the weather and God.

I sit at my desk by a candle’s easy light.

My mind railing against my head.

What am I doing wrong.

What is wrong with me.

I eat,

I study,

I walk,

I write,

I sleep.

There must be more.

There is more out there than some half melted snowflakes clinging to my shoe.