Think-that is.
It could be because this is when my hair is down,
I can hear my breath living for me.
Most likely, it is because it is the only time
for me when I do not see...
Feel the sky loom its clouds,
the careless way it does so often rise and shine,
too bright for my light eyes that eat too much.
I am blinded by these opportunities and unknowns
of the day.
Overwhelmed.
I say nothing I cannot see.
Overhead, empty as moon shadows I can be,
more thoughtful.
Night gales match my mood,
and pelting rain covers my sounds
in steam
across the taunting window panes.
I dry my face
from dreams that drench the den.
Alone in my dark head.
Please-forget all I have said.
While others claim tight-knit sleep,
I am loose and listening to every
one thing.
I do it better at night.
Photo by Eugène Atget [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Photo by Eugène Atget [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.