Wednesday, May 4, 2022

Late Night Hours

i take succor in late night hours
quiet only broken in
random rumbles from a passing engine
finally there is time to ease into 
a self unbidden 
aware and unhidden 
unhindered unconcerned with every floorboard creak
no need to be mild or meek or held to any role’s course
no one’s gaze to lock me into place
or pressure to keep an inscrutable cookie cutter face
no i simply sip and slip among motes
avoiding looking at the clock and all that it denotes
until my eyes no longer light 
trip and trick me into yawning
consciousness dies and then is reborn 
awaken impaled 
upon a golden shaft of morning

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thoughts on Bots, Poetry, and Coming Back Again

I checked my blog's numbers after my last post. My readership seemed to be exploding, but considering the volume was all from Singapore,...