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Pierre's night alone
Contributed by
Keatsdogg
on
Friday, 21st February 2003 @ 07:20:00 PM in AEST
Topic:
MiscPoems
|
Yellowed pages, old wisdom, they comfort like the fireplace.
Wineglass kissing his bifocals near the opened book, which smells of mildew.
Remembering Helene, and her first smile, something inside awakens. The fire cracks, and a page is turned by the draft.
The trees serenade near the window, knowing that they are the Count's musicians.
They knew the Countess well.
He blinks. Too much quiet kills often, and without warning.
It smells of burning wood.
Copyright ©
Keatsdogg
... [
2003-02-21 19:20:00] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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