A window pane, frosted with ice,
holds back the ravenous wind.
The same slim silica glass
keeps coziness in.
The soft light melts
into darkness beyond
the ambitious stretch
of a single candle.
In the corner,
a dog sleeps, curled
into a cinnamon twist knot.
She sighs and wraps her fluffy tail
over her tawny face,
like sled dogs do to
keep their noses warm
as they sleep on the tundra
under a white Arctic moon.
Drinkers with Writing Problems 