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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