In the darkest hours before dawn I rise

Just as I have many mornings like this

In this blue hour where sleep is a fleeting dream

And my demons long thought buried rise again

Today is not a day for work, for Poetry has left me once again

The frozen winter, the worst in a century, is barely kept at bay

But it has already entwined itself around my heart

And I know now what must be done.

For two decades I have chased the ghost of my father

I saw him in every man, and I married you.

But you left just as he did, as they all did

As I tried to do too.

Bread and milk for the children

Your lover will live in my shadow

Always second best, and she will die within the decade

But she will take your child with her, something I would not, could not do.

It's so cold now here in this blue hour

But the gas is on, the gas is on

Sleep---

And Daddy, calls to me again.