April 16, 2011
Blue parachutes of bedroom walls are drifting down from flight as
dreamy light slips through the cracks in curtains,
bright enough to wake the soul but
not so much to read a bible.

I emerge, tousled feathers in my hair and
Wondering where I came from, out there,
songbirds stirring in the rain
but in the nighttime, anything could have been
and was,
As Sleep took sheets for wings
only to leave me misremembering but
in the morning.

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Mike Miller said...
Jul. 28, 2011 at 8:06 pm
Excellent piece - the clever "double entendre" of wake is quite engaging.
writehanded This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Jul. 28, 2011 at 8:28 pm
Thank you! 
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