2:38 am
Struggling to stay awake
Feeling faint
Iced hands stuck writing
Word for word, beat for beat
Softly tapping against my window
Listening & waiting
I stopped to look out
Lost in the sea of gray
Reaching out in dry and chipped cusps
To catch that drip-dropping rain
I was consumed by that autumn night at 2:38 am.
YOU ARE READING
Book of Leaves
PoetryWither and fall that is the silent gall of these words. Slowly, softly thither As the harsh dew spring buries all in a gale of memories.
