The Cold Stove

Hearing her voice smile, “It’s got to be time”
Her warm body sliding closer to mine
My eyes closed I felt her breathe on my neck
She had a cold stove with embers to check

Swinging my feet over hitting the floor
It’s so cold, there could be another chore
Just in time running I managed to beat
Squeezing against pressure to lift the seat

Now the three red embers were dying for fuel
Next to the cord was kindling as a rule
Last nights beef stew was sitting in the fridge
Coffee pot set up for our dark dosage

Heating up the cold stove ready to cook
Logs and some pages from a comic book
With a jump my cold feet found her asset
Vowing her vengeance later I felt regret

© 2014 Michael Yost 05/19

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