The House Next Door

Written for The Sunday Muse #253 image by Vikram Kushwah

In the house next door
it is always quarter to six

shadows squat solid
as the great big clock

and battalions of washing 
stride on wooden horses

through the mouldering dawn.
In the bedrooms

restless figures are dreaming.
One is muttering incessantly

says the black cat
as she twines around my feet

She knows all the shadows
by name as well as the owl

who she says
hoots to Brahms lullaby

drowning radio static,
round eyes in the half dark

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