In the switched-off kitchen I peered through drapes of grey lace, transfixed at the sight: a mirror hall of backyard infinities, benighted in a mute of blue. The straight rise of chimney smokes seeping secrets into heaven.
November neighborhood

In the switched-off kitchen I peered through drapes of grey lace, transfixed at the sight: a mirror hall of backyard infinities, benighted in a mute of blue. The straight rise of chimney smokes seeping secrets into heaven.