Rachel S. Heslin
Thoughts, insights, and mindless blather

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It is afternoon.
The sky, seen in glimpses beyond green curtains and glass slightly gaping, is
     pewter and slate
     stone and silver

I feel him beside me, breathing slow and even.
Small, soft fur sleeps between and upon us.
Water dots the windows, smearing the sky.

A rolling rumble and the scent of rain through that gap between panes carries memories of childhood storms, days of delighted counting of seconds between light and sound, estimating distance.

There are dishes in the sink
Bills to be paid
Errands to run.

But, for now, I am content to lie with my love
     (and the cats)
And listen to the thunder.

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