12/365 - 18/365

—so predictable,
the cat chooses his options
of occupation:
curl at the foot of the bed—
or roam nighttime's darkened house.
•
Second time around
the pond, drowning in heat
of early twilight,
a bell rings with flattened chimes
—and then I notice the moon.
•
For a brief moment,
we confuse the sound of a
distant dog barking
with the baby three rooms down
the hall, yet sleeping peaceful.
•
An odd depression
unfolds over me— dark wings
opening slowly—
unexplainable motion
without justified reason.
•
After eye exams,
the outside world burns with fire—
pale auras surround
everything, every object
reveals hidden energies.
•
I can hear silence
throbbing in my ears, shifting
as darkness settles.
We lie in bed, side by side—
locked in a firm present tense.
•
Some nights its harder
to reach within that storehouse
of words, gather seeds
of sensory impressions
as from a pomegranate.