Poem 498

Evocation of the moment before the weather breaks (as also seen in Poem 8) …

( I like the curtains breathing … )

Close

The dry static of storm
comes on
                    curtains at the window
breathe deeper 
                                more erratically
                a sleeper beginning a dream

sounds of neighbours
could be in your own house
                  pressed down and close 
by  turbid air