I'm Tired Of

The sameness of sibilant steam
For early morning tea;
The sound of soft snoring
From the other rooms or
Lifesavers stale n sticky
Under cushion seats

The humdrum drone of
Frustrated poets
Dreaming they're great and I
A frequent flier
Just for longing for
Freedom or escape.

Sameness sticky with its
Familarity
I wish to
Move beyond the stale cold air
That surrounds me hissing
With the sound of
Shifting snow; silent
Footsteps that
Return home once again
From their long journey
Elsewhere