Softly Now

In the quiet room
She sits, hands folded
The mantel clock ticks
The morning passes

She sits, hands folded,
Waiting. She has no worries.
The morning passes.
The sun moves across the floor.

Waiting, she has no worries.
It will be time soon.
The sun moves across the floor.
She closes her eyes.

It will be time soon
The mantel clock ticks
She closes her eyes
In the quiet room.

cross-posted at Daily Writing Practice.

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