Secret Ingredients
Neglect
sunday afternoon
on the line the week’s washing
left out in the rain
–
empty bottles-
even the baby
has stopped crying
Nosferatu
crawling out of bed
passing by the hall mirror
my reflection gone
–
the dead of night-
awaiting your
invitation
Travel
rumbling through the dark
long trains roll westbound under
thunder and lightning
–
drying hay-
the countryside
glides past
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