Sunday, October 28, 2012

Another Day

When we lie in bed together
nearing sleep, there is no other
place I'd rather be. In the morning
I hear the birds. You hear them too
and you say it's the loneliest sound
in the world. You rise, not so gently,
rolling the bed and making a grind.
If I am awake I watch you,
for I watch you whenever you
turn aside, pass through the door
out into the hall, to begin
your shower for the day.

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