In your small armchair
It is cooler here
The slight chill
Through the thin glass
Acts as a counterbalance
To the well-stoked wood-burner
Which keeps the body of the room
Good and warm, roasting some might say
I am meditating
All seemed quiet
But the contemplation
Allows for many sounds
Next doors dog
Is repeatedly disturbed
By the passing traffic
He yelps
Then barks again
Just so that I may be aware
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