Saturday, July 2, 2011

By Myself at 11 o'clock

As the sky goes midnight blue,
A pleasant, even, cheerful hue,
I lie on the bed I know I made.

And while it slowly sinks down there,
The blazing sun without care
I envy even as it starts to fade.

All is calm and so slowed down,
And it take Ill I have to not frown,
'Cuz twilight always seems so sad to me.

But as I settle into bed now
Sometimes--and I don't know how--
A longing for the daybreak seems to be

Wishful thinking or a memory.

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