Nightfall

 

Woken from a deep slumber,

as if my name was spoken

aloud.

Only the spotlight of a honeyed full moon

sings across my shadowed walls.

Heart racing,

as through free falling,

plummeting off of a craggy cliff-face

and remembering 

just now, that the safety net

was only a dream. 

Painting by Tivadar Csontváry Kosztka, 'Full Moon over Taormina' c. 1901 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Counting Sleeps: A Bah-lid

Don't I dream anymore?
How to say,
I mean the real you

pixel on a big picture,
just too much macro-clysm
to mouth out, I conceive.

Mostly,
breathing through it, as I
must.

Wanting not of mine,
not that I would
disagree in contentment.

And all of those steps made today,
left right traces
blown away...

Somewhere may we-
someplace, let us-want to
make some thing interesting
since I cannot sleep
under such a new moon.

For now,
I would join you since you too
are going my way...


Painting by Władysław Ślewiński (1896) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.