winter rain
it thunders down
drowning out
night-time sounds
no squeaking insects
no startled birds
pit pat
pit pat
drip
drip
drop
it stops.
it stops.
…
lying next to him
his soft sighs
oblivious to the storm outside.
his softly warm body
delicate hands
baby-fine hair.
wriggle wriggle
for a small kid
he takes up the whole bed.
Winding Back The Hands Of History’s Clock.
-
*Holding On To The Present: The moment a political movement arises that
attacks the whole idea of social progress, and announces its intention to
wind bac...
5 days ago
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