Living Room, a poem by Anna Spydell

From Hoosier Writers 2012 by Anna Spydell

Where cats lie languid in windows and stare, insolent and

cool, to neighbors and cars.

Where children curl into warm, golden-pink balls on the

couch, long eyelashes fluttering on flushed cheeks.

Where books and magazines collect like sheet pastry in piles, shut or

open-leaved in corners, on the ottoman.

Where dust motes ride the light lazily through the big windows,

curtains drawn back.

Where I slide, fox-sly and flirting, under your arm, tip my face

up for a kiss after children have retired noisily to toy-clogged beds.

Where we collect in the heart, like cells, to congeal

before rushing out madly once more.

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