
Rhythm of the Night Isn’t About Poetry
The night is ringing
in my ears. Light leaking
through the blinds like
pinpricked stars. Those
stars laughing at an owl
on some nearby tree
swallowing its vowels.
And I’m awake again.
So I write something,
fall asleep, wake up again,
and write something.
ForΒ Twiglets #256Β “Awake Again”.Β Photo byΒ Todd SteitleΒ and Β AJ JeanΒ onΒ Unsplash. Shared with #APoemADay on Twitter Β Β©Misky 2021
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