Outside-in
In bed
the fan on
I smell the sky
I taste the salty stars
I inhale the moon into
my dreams.
Under layers
of quilts my body
cocooned, nestled, snug.
My head on a bracing ski slope
rushing headlong through the wind
into sleep.
7 comments:
No better transport than a bed, I say. Ship. Spaceship. Time Machine.
You captured it. Thanks
This is the second bed poem I've read; I never would have thought it! Certainly does transpose your world.
Hi, Linda. Thanks for dropping by again at www.gregoconnell.com. An aspect of your poems which really appeals to me is all the sensory information you give the reader, including smell and taste.
Oooh, nice! Love the ending.
yep. that does it.
Thanks for the lovely image!
I enjoy seeing how you play with space as well as language in your poems. This one especially struck me visually.
I wish I could drift away so easily.
HERE'S what I did.
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