I lay and think.
I stare out my window,
through the trees and the leaves,
and stare a moon drifting through tranluscent clouds.
I think about my day, and i think about tomorrow.
Of conversations past and the adventures ahead.
Sometimes i worry the sky will brighten before my thoughts,
have become obsure enough to be considered,
dreams.
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1 comment:
I love to write poetry, so I can see where you are coming from...
Great poems. We all seem to be having a poetry kick, lately.
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