The moment

This frosted moment in the afternoon,
you watching the grey sky
the Russian Poetry book in one hand,
snow stopped falling,
a cat standing still in the street,
the low hanging sun behind the clouds.

No curtain is moving but eyes are fixed.
You don’t blink. We hear no traffic,
no wind, an all over silence
is awaiting the inevitable:
the encounter of the new postman
and the neighbour’s German Shepherd.

πŸ˜‰

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Comments on: "The moment" (12)

  1. Ha ha! The mood of breathless expectancy of the sublime certainly caught me out!

  2. I join with John Stevens in being totally caught out by this one, Ina. But I’ll bet the new postman has been warned…and may disappoint you with his sang froid…..

  3. I have the image of the Postman being Polish, and I now have a wholly inappropriate fit of giggles.

  4. What John Stevens said

    Much love

    David
    xxx

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