Eyes Closed – a poem

Breaths of cool autumn on my skin,
and the smell of younger days:
cranberry, pumpkin,
spice I cannot at present name.

The house creaks with the wind outside.

I am present, wholly so.
A rare occurrence, this.
Flannel, dry heat, smooth candle wax.

Here and now.

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2 thoughts on “Eyes Closed – a poem

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