Move Me Poetry
Published in

Move Me Poetry

My Sleep Waits For The Light

Only drift into a dream once the sun begins to rise.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

There’s no room for sleep —
the silence of the night
is not so still to swallow my sight. The eyes
only bear the strength to quiver—
in the dark,
with all that is now left — ajar.

Don’t look too far:
only catch a glimpse of light
before it cushions the wearied fright
with a gentle hush, now

Lay down—
and make some room—for a dream
.

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