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Morning
Departure
The
taxi’s waiting
Oh but stay, look:
The leaf-patterns on the kitchen wall
Shifting ranks of daffodil-spears,
Mottled fret of jasmine
Now here, now gone,
Now melting in the red dawn glow
That spreads its richness on the curtains
And the napkins sprawled
Among the shining cups, the eggshells,
And the knives that cast
Bright bars upon the ceiling;
Yes, and the stove’s low murmur,
Its gentle warmth, clinging
The taxi’s waiting:
And a cold, white dawn in other places.
by Damaris West
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