From last year. Slightly revised since then.


January night. Moderate chill.

Fingering a wooden rosary,

I sit on the third-floor balcony

In a darkness here and there

Dotted and streaked with light.

I'm dressed in winter pajamas.

I’m hoping no one can see me

As I look up at the Hunter's belt,

Down at the parking lot.

The light traffic of Route 60

Hums within sight and hearing

Just past the hundred-yard path

In front of my apartment building.


It's thirty, thirty-five degrees.

I wrap this cold around me
And my sluggish senses waken.

I drink darkness like water

And listen for whispers of mercy

In the endless star-sparked sky. 

Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 145 times
Written on 2018-01-29 at 08:09

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!

Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
I enjoyed the intimacy of this poem. A quiet moment of reflection and prayer sitting on a cold balcony dressed in winter pajamas. It's peaceful and a little sad. Lots of feelings in it.