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worn dregs

As if some dire circumstance begs to be mentioned
among these placid, shallow December days
a rusty tone laces through the moments
ringing heavily beneath this cozy eve
while the windowpane silently holds back a storm.
And still we wonder how it is that such violence fits
as terror sparks discussion round the gaping hearth;
when if only we would follow the ashes through the bitter dark
we then would see how peace is murdered.