Daydreams – poetry from the periphery II

Edges

Sometimes, when sleep doesn’t come

and dark steals light from day,

my eyes can open

to see the light

visible

only

then.

 kids on bikes

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.

 bathtub fingers

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.

 

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