On the other side of the glass,
a sheer curtain was drawn
Every color a bit more exhausted
too tired to shine through
It contrasted nicely in the night
but it brought an eerie note
Droplets chased each other
they were dancing to the sound of thunder
All was muted on the other side of the glass
steam and aroma rising from a cup
A quiet day, an even quieter night
I embraced melancholy as an old friend
and offered her a biscuit from my tea tray.
You can get your copy of my first novel on Amazon: Little Rebellion
Poetry Books: Identity Crisis, Rehab
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