An Opening

I'm stuck in a place where it is difficult to flourish. Anemic blades of grass are sparsely visible as the snowscape absorbs a bruise from the setting sun. I don't know why I'm satisfied that I've become accustomed to a place that has left me so numb. In fact, I couldn't care less whether or not the stars will accept their usual positions out there in the darkness. I'm just looking for a crack in the sky.

silent winter night;
a pond turtle thumps
the aquarium glass