Still life with street lamp
and Gingko tree–
a high-ceilinged room
filled with empty hours
and extremes, too cold,
too hot, that ancient itch.
In the lusterless dark
I cannot cross over
to sleep–
a wild thought,
an unlikely doubt,
a drop in the sea,
so gazing out
onto a vacant street
I wait for the rain
to start.
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” high-ceilinged room
filled with empty hours
and extremes, too cold,
too hot, that ancient itch.” Wonderful use of words!
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Thanks, Marie!
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I always love your ability to express emotions that are hard to box into simple words like “sad”, or “happy”. You simply re-create it on the page. Beautiful!
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Thank you, Claire!
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Sentinel
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Yup… that’s perfect.
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amazing! i really like it.
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Thanks!
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Your poetry fills empty hours!
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Thank you for taking the time to read it!
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But of course! It’s a pleasure to read.
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