Cool colors,
blue or gray
wide open, tired,
drying in the chilly breeze
To blink now would ruin
everything
dreams could not compare
to the lake fairies,
snowflakes,
or distant wolf cries
of moonlight winters
Humble houses
candles in windows, icy doorsteps,
I’m unwilling to enter
just yet.
YOU ARE READING
Drowsy
PoetryThe Sleep Trilogy. Book one: Drowsy (complete), Book two: Catharsis (ongoing), are both collected here. About sleepy feelings, sharp moments.
