Swathes of snow straddle
terraced roofs that stagger down the street,
huddled against the cold.
A sullen weight,
building over days of discharge
from clouds swollen
with their burden.

Brown-coated and scarlet-cheeked
against the drifts. Wedding ring hanging
loosely, caught on arthritic knuckles
that shake as they grip a key
burning with frozen fire.
Leaving ridged fingerprints on the lock
and raw skin on numb fingers.

She falls over the threshold,
rubbing slack skin together
to drive away bone-choking cold.
Even the radiators have turned
their backs on her,
remaining stubborn, heartless,
frozen. No-one remains
to mend the broken boiler.

Swaddled in jumper and coat
feet twitch impatiently
as she waits
for the kettle to boil.
A cup of tea will sweeten
breath stained with tuna sandwiches,
will warm stuttering hands
for a while longer.