Night Be still says the brain But the heart can’t stop Spinning its secrets Blue knots of worry Each one tethered to bollards That won’t budge for rest Untangling knot twists One by one, each loosening A tight grip — to sleep.
Through My Viewfinder
Night Be still says the brain But the heart can’t stop Spinning its secrets Blue knots of worry Each one tethered to bollards That won’t budge for rest Untangling knot twists One by one, each loosening A tight grip — to sleep.