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  • Writer's pictureMichaela


Updated: Apr 18, 2020

The glow spills over, orange as his hair

On that pillow hugging mine,

Filling a clarified sky from which

A swatch was cut to make his eyes--

Cracked open now and then while he decides

Which foot will step into the new day.

But the sun does not delay,

Does not hold its place for the century I crave

Swallows wheeling in my stomach-stay! stay!

Too soon it has changed and he must away

A kiss for the asking to tuck in my basket,

Weave green and gold reeds into keepsaking casket

And lay all my sorrows to rest.

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