Tuesday, November 26, 2013


Wind chimes are
humming in the background
like a Tibetan chant.
The rain makes a gentle patter on my roof
like a thousand tiny footsteps. 
Fig preserves are fresh on my tongue.
A story by Flannary O'Connor is fresh in my mind.
I'm leaving everything else
behind for now,
like prepping the house.
Those things can wait till tomorrow.

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