Edges

Sometimes, when sleep doesn’t come

and dark steals light from day,

my eyes can open

to see the light

visible

only

then.

 

Photo: www.cyclingisgoodforyou.blogspot.com

The sound of pavement

There’s a sound my bike would make

after a summer rain –

a contemplative

hyperbole

for what lies

beneath

me.

___

Rose-colored

Rose-colored glasses don’t lie

just because what they see

has already gone

in ways our eyes

and our hearts

differ

on.

___

Fuzzy wallpaper

I run my hands along it,

feel its textured pattern:

fuzzy wallpaper,

hung in my home

providing

hours of

fun.

 

Photo: www.scientificamerican.com

Lessons from the bathtub

I’ve been in the tub for hours.

My fingers look like prunes,

skin mountain ranges,

meandering;

a picture

of my

days.