Time Ticking By

I linger in the doorway
Of alarm clocks screaming.
It has been raining for days.
The cats sniff at the door,
flinching back, reluctant to leave
the cozy comfort of the kitchen.
Brain rot seems to be setting in,
I can't get the fog out of my head.
Mist, rain, all this damp weather,
a clockwork of depression.
I watch a mouse sink into an old hole
with a mouldy bread crumb in tow.
The damp weather drifts across us
penetrating our dreary routine.
I think I have been enduring
this dampness for months.
Like chickens we both want
to roost in the warmest spots.
Like a mother hen, my wife clucks
marking the days off her calendar.
She is waiting for her chicks.
I am afraid they are locked
up in dampness and frost.
She says she has faith.
I don't discourge her hoping
as it releaves the moping
of her hungry,childless heart.

(Had to write something from the opposite sex point of view. I found this hard to do.)