The phrase, in a measure,
of a door's squeak.
Memorized to sneak
in after dark.
This is my house, now.
That was my home, before.
Bury the hearth in snow
or fog; she will remember.
Lodge a heart to the hilt;
it, too, will find a way to
snap the latch, blind,
and put its beat to bed.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
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