Icefall in the Valley Of The Kings

Longer days still have their nights
laying under sheets becoming shrouds
while little claws tick the windowpanes

Forecast said a wintry mix, treacherous morning,
but it is the night and hidden moon, imps together,
whispering doubts over a thudding heart

Semi-living pharaoh turns in his wrappings,
runs a hand through stiffening hair, to wonder,
how to stop the ice from crashing through the roof