A Drawing Room with a Fireplace at Night

Tick, tick, tick —
the pendulum creeps ever nearer.

Each swing is a little uneven
and makes me strain my ears.

Creak, creak-creak… creak-creak…
the parquet sings along.

Under the footsteps of sleep
of two shadows.

Shh, shh, shh,
say the curtains

before the tender light
of the lantern bent unnaturally outward.

Ting, ting, ting,
the crystal baubles add.

Empty, as they have not
been allowed to be for a long time.

The soaked, resinous silence
hints to us that the day

is nearby.

In the silhouette of the day
I cannot tell the silhouettes apart.

Thump… thump-thump… thump-thump…