I'm sorry if this is offensive in any way, but are you a housewife or a stay at home mom? I don't know why I get the idea here. I feel like you're limited to your house and your only vortex to the outside world is a window with the same view 7 days a week until someone comes home and you can live through their life. I'm not saying you're unimaginative or boring. Not at all. Seriously. I promise. I just get that vibe from this poem. Maybe it's depression.
Emily Dickinson was an agoraphobe. I think that's what they were called. She never left her house. But she wrote of the outside world like she was a traveler. In one way, it's amazing what an untainted, unexperienced mind can do. Unexperienced in the sense that you haven't been there yourself to do it. But she was able to be so intuitive about places and their beauty. It's admirable. I feel like you did that here.
when the water runs cold
like the blood in my veins
and I remain.
I'm not sure what to say about this here. I feel like there could have been a better way to say this, just a little less subjective and personified. Maybe not your veins, but belonging to something else, like the world's veins (the rivers) going cold. Just an idea.