a.m thoughts

the old house sleeps

snores through its chimney


through leaky window frames
morse code droplets
tapdancing in the sink


silent the night
and the children
snug under duvets


the wind of blue predawn
blessing the newspaper man
and the neighbours' tom


breathing in
breathing out


just being


a still life by Dutch masters
less than tidily arranged


Poetry by Katarina Wikholm
Read 175 times
Written on 2012-04-01 at 05:33

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