Wednesday, September 9, 2015

Morning Pocket

I could sleep forever
Wrapped,
No tangled 
In the paisley white sheet 
Always coming detached from the end of the bed

Wafting breeze from the open window
Climbs gently, like a vulture on the wind
Up my leg and across my back, 
Exposed because my shirt is wrapped, 
No Tangled 
Somewhere beneath me 

Chickens rustle leaves outside, 
Finding their morning meal of juicy insects, 
The sound wakes me for a dull moment, 
Opening and closing my consciousness 
Like an ephemeral bloom 

It only drives me to cling to sleep tighter,
In as passive a way as one can possibly cling, 
For too focused a concentration
And this jungle of slumber I have found myself in 
Slips away 

I find myself awake 
Hugging a dilapidated pillow, 
Like I am protecting my young from the many 
Creatures of the forest

And so the day begins 
My Amazonia dreams -
Or whatever they may be -
Slip away, 
Never to be fully remembered
But always to be revisited

I'll always come back to you

Comfiest morning pocket.



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