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Jan 2018
Four tired feet, resting at last.
The old work shoes,
thankfully cast.
Beside the couch,
where now they rest.
A weary head upon her breast.

Silence,
sharing,
just their breathing.
Two souls swimming,
two souls dreaming.
Like a Buddha
neath a willow.
Each ones heart
just like a pillow.

And as each breath
rises and falls.
Candle wax spills on the wall.
Β Β Seconds...
minutes...
fade away.
Tomorrow is another day.
Peter Cullen
Written by
Peter Cullen  Clane Co.Kildare Ireland
(Clane Co.Kildare Ireland)   
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