Winter Evening

and in the glow of seven
I have no secrets

I shake off my pencil
put aside tools of craft

and language
cradle my thoughts

in the swaying arms of twilight
seek the hush

beneath my ribs

the silence calling
itself sleep

its only secret
is the memory of a word

7 thoughts on “Winter Evening

  1. So happy to find you here, thank you, and blessings and hugs to you, dear Krishna! *smiling heart*

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