The lace curtains
and the click of the keys;
warmth rushing up from the heater vent
to fill my skirt.
I can see Tom's toes from where I sit.
And the quiet Sunday evening
ticks on, ticks on.
Peace together, serenity,
and the tiny ache
of Monday coming soon.
Beauty so close it can't be touched.
13 January 2012
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)