a.m thoughts
the old house sleeps
snores through its chimney
breathing
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
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Written on 2012-04-01 at 05:33
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