icy rain balanced on the windowsill
Outside a storm rages, berating the thin trees with thrashing lashes of wind, hurling the rain down to pound the delicate grass into oblivion, adding a thin cover of ice to everything, smothering the land beneath its cold, blank canvas. Inside, all is calm. I hear the winds keening and the rain battering the windows, but feel only the warmth of a blanket and the gentle steam rising from a mug. The closed book at my bedside beckons.
