Waiting On The Sun

The dream is at it’s demise
As lashes start to flutter
Eyes now open wide
Lying still in a warm slumber

Winter is set on the window pane
Brushed strokes of frosty art
Darkness of dusk lingers and remains
Stillness accepts the beat of a lonely heart

Time lingers, stretching on
I watch for the faintest of blue
in the earliest signs of dawn
Like frost as it secedes to dew

Then I see the bluest of faint
Hidden at the edge of the horizon
All that is alive in the moon’s fate
Here we watch, waiting on the sun

February 2010

When I wrote this poem, I didn’t realize how cloudy it was. The sun slipped by incongnito. Damn that sun!

(written from county jail with a wild ass case of insomnia and a window that was 6 inches wide)


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