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  • The poem below was written on a cool, clear morning, but the audio was recorded during a rainy afternoon in the loft.


    glorious loft
    looks out over the valley
    head resting on pillow in the morning
    look through the window to the clear blue sky
    clouds float past, tickled by gums

    above the kitchen
    smells of toast waft upward as others wake
    footsteps crunch on gravel
    murmurs of conversation through the window
    clink of plates, boiling water into french press

    feet turn out from the silken sandwich of white sheets
    onto pristine lamb’s wool laid out beside the bed
    some cocoon of honeyed timber, this is

    birds call all around
    door opened to the air
    the balcony
    sun salutation
    recharging, filling, warming

    a long stretch
    a deep breath

    in the loft

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