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Breath of a window

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Sometime in the night
When the wind moves the curtains
and the owls settle down
I will remember my  own name
The callings and the failures of a lifetime
I will measure from then to tomorrow
                      with something telepathic
If you listen you will hear it burn the air
like lightning

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About wherearetheheros

just someone my mother might know

10 responses »

  1. Poet. Son. Brother. Husband. Father. Friend. Worker. Story teller. Electrifying Soul. (Meantime, stay away from large bodies of water and bathtubs.)

    Thank you for a truly wonderful read.

    Reply
  2. So Good–where would we be without each other’s poet?

    Reply
  3. What a wonderful title with this reflective poem! I liked the burn the air like lightening. 🙂

    Reply
    • thanks Debbie

      This poem was written like many from the old blog– going in and out of sleep.
      Not healthy really but fun in a way.
      Once I was working on top of a mountain and lightning went between the rodman and I. It was bristling and brilliant ,immediately it began to snow and we rushed away for fear of being trapped there for days.
      blah blah blah

      thanks again!

      Reply
  4. The night wind brings messages from afar sometimes….

    Reply

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