It's 5 am. I've been awake since two.
The northeast corner of our continent
begins its long and arduous wintering.

My sink collects half-emptied cups,
spoons stained from instant coffee. I keep house
haphazardly as any college sophomore.

You texted yesterday from thousands of miles away:
words that embraced me, found me, helped to heal
soul-wounds I didn't even know I had.

Accept this sleep-starved blessing, Kat:
your heart steadfast as only those can be
who've known harsh spells of weather and survived.