Floating wonder, gasping hopes
The way fresh sheets capture my comfort and the breeze rustles my dreams.
A chill.
The cloud modifies and opens my heart. A thousand fingers pressing my cells and opening my light.
Why does light end when it warms my soul. I push out air, to only suck it back in.
Bedtime. Floating flocks ready to encompass my shapes and my inner demons.
Placid breaths...
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Author:
C.J. Knudsen (
Offline) - Published: June 4th, 2019 08:09
- Comment from author about the poem: A poem about bedtime.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
Offline)
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