madowoi

By madowoi

Front Porch at Night

What I remember 
Is how the wind-chime
Commenced to stir
As she spoke of her childhood,

As though the simple
Death of a pet cat,
Buried with flowers,

Had brought to the porch
A rumor of storms 
Dying out over the
The Dark Atlantic.


from Memory of a Porch, by Donald Justice

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