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Past Midnight
A poem by Sue Woodward
Past midnight
She creeps unseen into the shadowed hall.
Key ready
Cold steel against warm ringed finger.
Steady footsteps but beating heart
Senses sharp
She breathes in the dank mix of decay and stale perfume.
The first landing reached
She quickens her step towards her safe haven.
Past midnight
She sips alone her glass of cheap red wine.
Fire lit
Warm glow against cold grey wall.
Steady hand but aching heart
Senses numbed
She stares towards the photographs on her mantelshelf.
Memories long faded
She bows her head and weeps her tears of shame.
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