Wednesday, 22 August 2012

and now

and now
a cold wind howls
down the staircase
it chases
rain across the children's unmade beds
we find thunder and lightning
hiding under their blankets
while they flee from my lullabies
sleep gilds the broken clouds
when darkness gathers again
rain drops softly on my song
and i draw the leaves closer
at night
the clouds catch the city lights' pretence
but in the morning
dawn gleams in the watery gems
indiscriminately adorning fences
birches and empty beds

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