Sunday in CinCity. For All the Mamas with Baby Chicks (big and small) at Home


by Blas Falconer

Rain against the roof sounds like a slow tire

over gravel, as if a friend has come.

The train rumbles through the dark, and my body, tuned

to hear you cry before you cry, stirs.

The lamp floats in the window, the only window lit

at this late hour on the empty street.

Your hands unfurl as you fall asleep.

Small Clock of Needs, Law that I Abide,

the leaves gloss and shine. Like this we rock

and sink into the long night of our rocking.


  1. So lovely when they come home.

  2. I find your blog so inspiring. Im grateful i found this blog by searching for a picture. Thank you Ms.


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