Music, softly, and some birds,
a red wing flashes in the trees,
while, in the background, clouds
sing to crowds of far-off hills.
It’s not a large home, but it’s mine,
and, leaning on this window sill,
dinner steaming on the stove,
I know: It’s more than most
will have, and for this
three-quarter time, enough.
© 2020, by Hannah Six
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