the windows of thought,
doors removed from hinges
lay against the walls,
hardwood floors slideunder my socked feet,
bells in the distance play
night or day songs, as I
cannot readily say which,
a fan turns almost silently
providing a little fresh air
in lieu of closed windows,
illumination behold...
is gradual and not as
fulfilling as once desired,
empty tea pots rattle
on the gas stove,
coffee purrs in the corner
and I sit here...
amidst it all
wondering how long?
19Jul17
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