The rain outside sings a duet
with the clothes dryer in the other room,
sounds of wetness and of drying
sharing certain similarities,
ticks that are not quite rhythmic,
a repetition of random
Our orbits in the house
intersect sometimes
but mostly we are silent
in our own pursuits,
winding down the evening,
shoring ourselves up
against unraveling.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 27, 2020
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