White Noise

she leaned into
wondering if the
faint sounds were
his hands smoothing
the pillows-
hauntings or
maybe it was just the
rustling of her gown
against the sheets-
she couldn’t sleep or
tremble away the
brush of the unknown

© Pamela Rossow

29 thoughts on “White Noise”

  1. Oooh got a little shiver with that last line!
    But I like that you leave it open to what it could be…
    Each time I reread your lines, it just makes my mind race at all the possibilities of what it could be! =)
    Take care, Que

  2. I have been so blessed in recent days to find writers who I enjoy, and voices I want to keep hearing… yours is definately one of them.
    You seem to have an amazing relationship with imagery… paint me envious and call me Sally.

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