Saturday, July 11, 2015


Close your eyes, sleep.
Inside here, it still is dark.
It is safe — maybe not comfortable, but safe.
Take advantage of the shelter.

No, that isn't Breadman. He'll come.
But breakfast is far off,
Now … you must sleep.
Like a child.

Listen to The Snorer.
His uneven gasps punctuating
the damp, early-morning air
I like your gibble; it gives me hope.
Now … listen to his snores, the off-and-on rhythm.
Up and down.
Let it rock you to sleep.

Please. Rest now.
The sun will push you away,
at least until tonight.
But you have hours left here.
Close your eyes.