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At Minus One

AT  MINUS  ONE


Pin drop quiet
Feather white ground
Yesterday’s prints half-filled
We wend home
Arm in arm
Pointing out stars
Always there 
But seeming crisper
Just below zero


Then the corner
Hiding the big spruce 
A distant dog  barks
The tree breeze 
Hisses him to silence
A darkened window
Lights up warmly
And we close arms
Shuffling home

...........................................

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things