A Cool Summer Day in February

There's lots and lots of work
That's sitting, waiting on me.
Books are queued up on the table
Grumbling and waiting to be read.
Emails flagged for completion
Entertain themselves in boredom.
The keyboard and mouse at work
Fell asleep together again in peace.
I ignore their groanings and silent pleas.
Today, there's clouds you see,
And they're my favorite
That fluffy grey quilt laid over blue sky.
It is so much more gentle
To lay our thoughts upon.
The air is damp and cool and clean.
It creates reverence, a holiness
None are willing to disturb.
Footsteps fall softer.
Wheels turn slower.
Birds sing only peace and calm
As they list in the branches
With heavy eyelids
And sleepy feet.
All I want is to continue.
I want to sit still
In this oft' neglected chair
In my cold cave home.
It feels and looks so natural:
The walls are a cave,
And water drips in the back
From the faucet,
Plip
Plop
...
Plip.
And electricity has deserted;
The appliances are stone dead.
In their sleep they are eternal
Maybe having slept there
For one thousand years plus one.
The cold floor kissing bare feet.
Skin to skin they cuddle
On this cool summer day
In February
As I sit.