Blueberry Hibiscus Parchment

I peeled my eyes

from the neighbor’s front door

had to dig my nails in

scrape the stuck stickers off

I blame it on the frosty air

There are icicles hanging on my awning

looming ice swords

for a critter

The wind whips up

pasted scarlet welts on my cheeks

I wander back inside to the hearth

weeks turning into parchment paper

the morning rays on my skin

I didn’t notice until now

the whistle of the tea kettle brings me back

to

present

Where was I?

Ah yes, enjoying the quiet

blueberry hibiscus tea