Communal Hall

Feet arrested upon Old Man Pine,
Yoga mat holds a stretching spine,

Reheated tea freshly served,
Precious silence softly stirs,

Book pages indelicately turn,
Cooking food begins to burn,

Singing voices filter in,
Lights flicker and gently dim,

Conversations murmur and mumble,
Rain drops roll, skies a rumble,

Footsteps heavy across a wooden floor,
Swinging shut fast, a closing door,

Laptops play a nonsensical drone,
Niches of people, together, alone.


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