Welcome back to Poetry Monday. I periodically jot down poems I like, but in the following, I seem to have misplaced its author. If you recognize it, let me know. Regardless, it seems to fit this particular morning. Be well.
Windy and cold.
All night, in gusty winds,
the house has cupped its hands around
the steady candle of our marriage,
the two of us braided together in sleep,
and burning, yes, but slowly,
giving off just enough light so that one of us,
awakening frightened in darkness,