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Listening to The Night

By John I. Blair

Even with my deafened ears
Iím listening to the night;
Hark, and you can hear it too Ė

Breathing round the corners of the house,
Smoky whispers from the yard,
Moaning in the porchlight.

In the dark a screech owl shrieks;
Tree trunks groan;
Afterward a lone dog barks.

There is a story being told;
I donít know how it ends:
Or in laughter, or in tears.

©2014 John I. Blair

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