knittingknots (knittingknots) wrote,
knittingknots
knittingknots

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Poem: Quiet Evening

Yeah, IK poetic fluff


Quiet Evening


The lamp by her work table
flickered as a soft breeze wound through the room
a gift of the rain falling outside,
casting shadows
on the silk blossom she was working.

She looked up for a moment,
watched how the light warmed
the silver of his hair
as he sat busy near the fire,
working a small piece of wood.

He threw some shavings into the fire,
burning low,
it sparked up with bright light for a moment,
driving away the shadows
that had hid his face,
and she watched him,
how his eyes focused on the wood in his hands,
and each tiny movement he made,
and at the tiny bits of wood
dusting his thigh.

The only sounds
the calm and even breathing of two people at peace,
the dripping water off the eaves of the house,
the wind in the trees,
and distant thunder.

Taking one last stitch,
she put her sewing aside.
“Time for bed?” she asked,
stretching her arms overhead.

He looked up at her
and smiled.
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