0530
0530
The air in my nostrils is cold.
Perhaps, it's why I'm freezing
in my bed. That or
the blanket I kicked off it.
I cannot sleep.
Silence is too loud yet
quiet like the shadow inside my father's briefcase,
But my thoughts are loud. Like the rattling of the train tracks when the 5 am train passes through.
The playlist in my head reaches 6lack &
Switch plays, plays, plays and replays.
I walk to the window,
My feet are numbed by the ice cold marble floor
but my eyes are fixated to the dull aurora
in the horizon.
Daylight is still at war with the knight of night,
Little came through the thick blackness. But the stars
And the moon swim across the skyward seas.
They decorated the matte black skies like a Christmas tree at 5:30.
×סv
Does this poem Deserve a thumbs up?
Yes
Prev : The Tune Of David's Harp Next : A Poet's Heel