Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Awoke a dreamer

No wind howling at the window now

A memory of slow crashing thunder now sleeps

in the pale light of this lullaby morning

bold perhaps but insignificant after all

all those dormant tears in your storm clouded eyes

all the secret chords in your voice

all the wind kissed drifts of driven snow

and every song you ever shook from your hair

playing so softly

like footsteps

in the cold golden glow of dawn

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