Quarter to Midnight

Sitting in bed,
listening to rain
surprised with a balmy
Saturday in January,
listening to jazz
on public radio, playing
"Tokyo Cosmopolitan"
and the techno jazz,
with saxophones and
annoy me, so I turn
off the radio,

and then there is silence.

The time says
quarter to midnight,
fifteen minutes shy
of four painful years plus
since hearing the lilt
of my mother's voice,
on one of the coldest days
in my life,

and then there is silence.

The rain stops momentarily,
and then the rain
starts again, inside, painfully,
as I lie in bed, and then,
when the rains stop
and then I retreat, sorrowfully,
to dream,

and then there is silence.

LCS 1.13.2013


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