worm sentience

Outside, the rain and falling leaves
are portents of frost and snow;
inside, the colours drift in patterns,
scents and warmth comfort us.

Others glide by, guided by familiar
walls, paths remembered by habit,
sensing peace in the known,
satisfaction in frozen expectations.

We allow ourselves to observe,
to listen to the amusing, silly,
and strange; we are none of these:
simply, we process waste.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/ Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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