barefoot across a late-night floor,
frigid air streams in, unopposed —
our front door fallen open —
winter letting itself inside
I shiver in the realization
there are those with so much less
than what we take for granted

barefoot across a late-night floor,
frigid air streams in, unopposed —
our front door fallen open —
winter letting itself inside
I shiver in the realization
there are those with so much less
than what we take for granted
There’s a quiet jolt in this piece, the kind that snaps you awake not just to the cold in the room, but to the cold reality others live with every day. That simple moment of stepping onto a chilled floor becomes a doorway into compassion. It’s understated, but it lingers, reminding us how easily we forget our comforts until the absence of them brushes against our skin.
Thank you, Kimberly