I love to hear the sounds
Of this late night's bedside stillness
Of rain tapping on the windows;
A drizzly distant cry;
Rustling leaves in gentle mournful whisper,
Like the murmur of a sad waterfall.
The past surfaces like driftwood,
Fragile yet powerful,
Tossed about on the churning waves of my emotion.
A door outside slams shut
And suddenly they are gone,
Back into the depths.
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