The warmth radiates from the wood fire
in concentric half-circles.
In the nearest arc shoes lay upon the hearth
Next outward bread dough rises.
If they were switched neither would be as happy.
Next, a bare-chested boy
draws rainbows over a melting snowman.
Perhaps he cannot fully imagine the cold.
At the far end of the table
a short-sleeved boy watches a tornado tube
swirl round and round.
In the next room the long-sleeved boy plays a pinball game
on the computer; the mouse is not the same as
the real thing I say, but he doesn't know any better.
Further on, in the living room, the girl
with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders,
plays some game of solitaire I do not know.
She rapidly places cards around the circle
faster than I can figure out the rules.
I go through the kitchen to get the dough.
It is time to bake the rolls.