if it was the Light

that woke me

it was not the sun

I had a full plate and I knew it

but the short time of a

cup of steam

scenting the air

with pomegranate green

and the toes are cold

but I cannot say how it

tears me up into little pieces

to leave when you want so bad

for me to stay

and to be gone for a quiet day

sent back but not soon enough

it seemed so long

an eternity

that couldn’t possibly end

like a shattered mirror

Put back together crystalline clear

even the blinks weren’t quick

the breaths would creep by

and the clock would lie

but I wouldn’t sit still

until I howl at the moon

with you

About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
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