A winter day before Halloween

I woke up to your baleen lashes filtering visions. Eyes bouncing back and forth underneath skin’s thin layer. I wondered what dreams you were scanning and if a small sliver of your lid would open to reveal a human white – not pure, but threaded with veins. I saw where your iris lay – a mound of bluegray like an island weathering waves.
The sun, an ignored child, hurled snow off the roof. Everything seemed to be falling – ice from the sky, snow from limbs – the sound was beautiful and unnerving. There is change and I am a rational being. Rational enough to know I can’t control.
I made coffee, put on boots without socks, feeling the sticky worn years of its sole and went into the morning to watch trees thawing with steam.