White paper, gray lines...

This pen flows blind

A brief moment to write
But with a weary mind
Too much thinking
Not enough time

The beauty of desire
Brushing up against the
Fence of daily demand
Finding a way to scale barriers
Any time it can

The changing of the seasons
Tease on midnight air
Intoxicating senses
Distracting the mind’s eye
Away from structured time
The gentle humming of the summer fan
White noise of peaceful, uninterrupted sleep
Stirring cool breezes now cold against my feet

White sheets of cotton draped across
My hips and legs
Tucked in warmly feeling fast
The end of another day

Dark shades shut out the glowing
The light over curved culdesacs sleeping
Quietly outside
Time to join them I suppose
This page growing narrow
My eyes falling closed

Always happy to write at the end of the night
Bringing peace, lulling sleep...

Soothing me under

White paper
Gray Lines