Friday, June 17, 2011

Creature of Rooms

Creature Of Rooms

the windows are open
And the sun is out
a warm breeze drifts through
the house but it grows dark too soon
For my comfort
I go to sleep in one room
And awake in another
I dream of holy places
Where there are no rooms
I go to the window often
Night and summer cry out for me
It’s voice is water open beneath stars.

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