the morning breeze
turns maple leaves to song . . .
alone at the window
I hear how Mother's words
come home have aged
Revision, Skylark 3:1, Summer 2015
A Room of My Own: Thoughts Pacing Gembun
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Another night of shifting, flipping the pillow, and counting sheep …
my thoughts pacing
in moonlit dark, one stray
outbarks the rest
