the work of the weather

Why I don't want to stand up
from this chair
is as obvious as
looking out the window.

It is a Little House on the Prairie blizzard out there,
the white-out
swirling kind
where Pa had to tie a rope
between the little house
and the little barn
so that he could find his way to do
his big chores.

Any weather that involves blindness is not for me.

Sitting in this armchair by the window
under a blanket
in sweatpants from my high school tennis days

Drinking French press coffee
with cream
from a Waffle House mug

Eking out my thoughts
in a journal
with a turquoise pen

That is work enough for me.

The weather is doing most of the work today:
it takes a blizzard-sized effort
snowflake upon snowflake of earth's energy
to keep people like us inside,
sitting
without a plan to do more
but get up
to re-fill a coffee cup.