Photo: Creative Commons
~
early Sunday morning
before waking others
a rising sun gives my mind pause
~
fingers of light touch the spine of a book, a memoir
where anticipation rests after question marks
nothing speaks where commas reside
~
behind leafless branches outside my window
the sunlight still low on the morning horizon
I watch a perched migrating bird that doesn’t see me
~
I recall the silence before a first snowfall
when I can see myself breathing again
on empty memoir pages,
~
literophanes.com 
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