"Frost on the windshield"

(Composed April 2009).

Steam rises, wafting from my peony tea cup;
PG Tips warms me from the inside out.
The timid lamp glows in the dim room.

Clouds fill the sky outside my window,
And a cool evening breeze creeps through the screen,
As the rhythm of horns and swirling tires floats up
From the racing cars on the boulevard below.

A faded newspaper clipping
And an old leather book
Snuggle at home on my desk.

I scribble this line in my journal,
Running my fingers through my hair,
Wondering what to write next.

I twirl my pen.

I tap my foot.

I shift my weight,
leaning to the side.

What word to write?
What image to describe?
All the letters look the same
Flat on the page.

The gears in my brain grow lethargic,
Like my car Phil on a chilly morning:
Breaks squeaking and frost on the windshield.