I listen to crickets fiddle in the night,
scratching sorrowful tunes of lost love,
urgently calling into the darkness,
and when they stop to tension their bows
I listen to the silence, and try to catch
the gentle rhythm of your breath, imagining
what songs are playing through your dreams.
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Just...:) Still writing. GOOD.
ReplyDeletePatrick; The world keeps turning, and I keep writing.
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