The Sound of Steam
It’s cold outside, but from a dream
I wake up to the sound of steam.
The room is toasty, opportune
For staying in my snug cocoon.
The gentle hiss as background noise
My half-asleep self quite enjoys,
A remnant of when I was small,
My brothers sleeping down the hall.
To make the coming day seem rosy,
There is nothing near as cozy
As that warming welcome hiss,
Deceiving us that naught’s amiss.
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