Healing Poems 349

Solitude

No one home.
Snow packing
the morning in.
Much white
nothing filling up.
A V of birds
pulling
the silence
until some dog
across the street
barks, and breaks
what I call my peace.
What a luxury
annoyance is.
It bites off
and keeps
just enough of
what I think
I want to be endless.
.
~ Lia Purpura

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