Tonight the sizzle of twigs in the old stove <br />teases silence from shadows dancing in fire. <br />Upstairs cats wait on the landing for sleep <br />to climb the steps to the steep-roofed dormer room: <br />'Come away, come away into this valley I have made <br />of dreams glittering green, sparkling through the dark <br />of the looking back, the looking back, ' is what she sings <br />edging toward the morphine dark, easing <br />into the warm, sweet pool of sleep.<br /><br />Anne Leaver<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/submission-21/
