last call of the night
adjusts the volume hearing soft whimpering
listening to a new tale
shock and grief coats her sullen voice
listening with empathetic resignation
a story unfolds of love and loss.
*******
shuffling home slowly at one in the morning
my mind holds too many tales
I long for days of rest
three days I shall escape with my muse
writing to my heart’s content
while eating comfort food
©Tournesol’17/11/04
Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #3
Daily moments November 3 2017 Friday night hotlines







