Late Night Phone Calls

A candle sputters from the draft of the refrigerator

Wind and snow batter the house
cascade down the window
leave tracks of transient moisture

A half eaten apple sits unbalanced in the sink

Shadows lengthen as filaments dim, sit silent

Upstairs orange shadows paint white walls
Your door is ajar

The snow falls noiselessly
The wind howls doggedly

Circling lights trickle across your wall as a plow grumbles by

I watch from your dark room until I catch a glimpse of myself
cheeks drawn in
biting my lip

The clock chimes twice
The house groans
I leave a light on for you

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