Nightpoem: 1

A singular weightlessness
pervades the existence I call my own

endless chatters of doings float
through a bedroom window

softening them: a lullaby of rain-mist
still a hundred doings not done

sort themselves, settling: ballast
to hold the float-away pieces

weight against muscles limbs
inclinations that stretch outward

weight that binds neck to shoulder
head to neck  here to now

birdsong to day-star
these bindings  and then

a knife of night to separate me
from my trivial bones.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s