so like the phoenix,
rising, unexpectedly,
to crack the
blue of the sky,
feathers only slightly singed,
soaring to invisibility
as you rise from
your rest to make the
coffee, and later, leek soup,
copper ladle rattling round the pot,
a dull bell, a call to supper,
spooning sustenance into each other,
the jolt of realization, yes, you
and no one else, opening and
shutting windows blinkered by curtains,
bolting the door against despair,
ourselves alone, together
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