I am, I admit
Jealous
Of your ceiling,
able to watch you sleep and better still
awake slowly in dim light
Of your heavy sweaters and scarves
wrapped around your neck and shoulders
adding warmth to your warmth
Of your vase filled with flowers
sitting on your windowsill, calm and modest as you
admire it, after breakfast and in the afternoon
I am, I admit
jealous of the life around you
every thing you touch