In moments like this there is comfort
To be had in the familiarity of the mundane.
A warm room on a cold night,
Bold winter scratching at the window.
The gibberish of a radio, its dial wandering
Concussed among the scattered stations
Of the night.
A car moving on the lane outside,
Wheels grazing snow on ice.
A book on your lap, pages of the written word
Open to new interpretations,
A candle burning in a saucer on the table
A quarter moon spluttering behind cloud
And the car on the lane is frantic now,
Wheels noisily chewing the cud.
My name is Dennis and I live in south Wale, UK. I like to read and write, walk the dog in the mountains. I won the Blackwater poetry competition in 2016 and read my work at the international poetry festival in county Cork. I am fifty five years old.