January 8

These soft hums that surround us, when loved ones breathe
or shift in bed slightly. We often ignore
this as background, heartbeat, tick, sigh or cough. We miss

quiet beauty, gloss over if, fret
instead about what we’ve lost. Our dread
could be drowned as we walked across wood
floors, if we doused thought, heard more.  

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A day is not done, until it's filled with words.

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