A Winter Afternoon

I allow the book in my hands
to fall softly into my lap
and close.

Mrs. Roth snores lightly
with her lips slightly parted,
giving the wheeze of death
room to breathe.

She stopped listening
two hours ago,
but I continued to read.

The snow outside the window
flutters down to cover the green
grass that strives to withstand
the cold.

A clock on the bright white wall
separates my thoughts into
little ticks and bigger tocks.

A drop of sweat caresses
my brow. The heat is stifling
but Mrs. Roth fears
the thought of freezing
to death.