Flames reflected within a cat’s eye
a glass of spirits await a parched soul
wool socks warming my chilled feet
the hound listens as the wind howls.
Teapot whistles in a shrieking pitch
inside a little cabin on a snowy night
as loneliness wreaks of rumination
a harsh stare from the napping cat.
Ink flows smooth on nights like this;
imagination tickles a swirling mind
image of acute emotional darkness
seeking the shadowed voice inside.
whilst the cat sits with one eye open
the mouse creeps on the window sill
snow shovel slides down with a clamor
everyone jumps as the winds howl.

Ken Allan Dronsfield is a published poet from New Hampshire. He loves thunderstorms! His published work can be found in reviews, journals, magazines and anthologies throughout the web and in print venues. His poetry has been nominated for Best of the Net for 2016.