The luscious sleep of raindrops
And low thunder in your dreams.
Leaves swirl and mist curls
And a dying fire blows the light out.
Wake to dusk and gray skies,
The steady drip grows to a long rain
A long afternoon
Of tea and nap and rivulets of thought.
Dream of years ago
When you visited a stranger’s house
And slept in her dim parlor
Through a timeless afternoon
Of Chopin and distant voices
Sounding like spattering rain,
Within and without.
October 27, 2010
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