From the High East Window

They are young, thin, just getting by.
We see them from above, sleeping naked,
half beneath quilt squares of bright colors,
his hand cradling her breast above the swell
of her pregnant belly.  Morning light fills
the room from the high east window.
The cat is impatient for breakfast,
already feeling neglected.


About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
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