Capital q Poetry
Poetry from the fellow Trent Bellwood
2/4/14
Small waits
The house squeaks
And panels rustle
With sounds
Of little feet
So little as is
Infinitely discreet
Clicks the shutters
Unfettered from
Severs somewhere
In the house's deep
Stillness now
All the wires
Chewed through
By a clever kind of boredom
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