Morning


Now, she was quiet
As she sat on the edge
of the bed-
contemplating a hair on the pillow,
a sock on the floor.
The window was still cracked open
from before
when night tickled skin-
but now the bright air
chilled.
She could hear the porch chimes,
she counted the notes:

one

two

three four
five six

seven

the breeze ceased
and they were quiet, too.

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