"The desert bears only a scathing sun, and nothing more."
"What about mirages?"

Sunday, December 12, 2010


Eyes close,
deep exhale,
tense muscles
loosen under
watchful eye.
I wait
for sleep to
take me
in it's warm
tangled grasp.

- - -

This whole staying up late and getting up early thing is starting to get to me; I can't keep my words, my thoughts, or my actions on track. I amble from place to place in the fog of over tired eyes.

But tonight was wonderful. It was a double date night for my bestest pal in the whole world, her boy, my boy and I. And it was more fun than I expected it to be.

Now my eyes hurt and it's time for bed.


  1. I read this during a bout of insomnia. The single line "I wait" is painful to my bleary eyes!

    Very nice read and I enjoy your little mix of poem and reality.

  2. Man, I wish sleep would take me in the grasp more often. Good expression here.


"Write with our backs to the wind and our faces to the hard, bleaching sun."