1 minute read
5 a.m. quiet
5 a.m. quiet John Reinhart
clock ticks, a motor somewhere whirs lightly, the dog stirs; airplane overhead faint rumble as thoughts tumble under chairs into dark corners scurrying through my head
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2 in this 5 a.m. quiet the chorus inside insists I listen spurred by coffee and freshened limbs; I try to sort out the melody but today the viola dominates and everyone is awake before the symphony finishes, turning my 5 a.m. quiet into day
