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Sleep
December 26, 2018
Familiar hands
tuck me into bed,
draw the covers
up to my chin.
Warm wool
and warm feet.
Heavy breathing
and hope of soft
diadem dreams.
I hear footsteps
leave my room.
I hear the door
creak and wonder
if I will remember
tomorrow morning
or lose all memory
in sleep.
© Brian N., Mildford, CT
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In the midst of endless homework, papers and labs, poetry helps me maintain my sanity.