Wednesday, March 05, 2008

White dawn

During the stranger-hours between the sheets
flickering eyes dream in time
breaking and entering into moments
we believed to be asleep

My dream flies
flutter into this dark
You can see their colors
when others saw none

This is your favorite time
In between the edge of dusk and scaling the AM climb
You love to float towards the tip of the white dawn
And hold tight as we descend to its bottom

1 comment:

Cynthia said...

I love this poem, especially
because the hour of Dusk is the
most beautiful time of day.