4:37 am

poet’s never really sleep
and for myself
i’d rather see dawn just before bed

4:37am
and. . .

click. . . click
zzzzzzzzzzzz. . .click

beauty
is bashing its brains out
against the light bulb outside the cabin
left on by mistake

feather dust symmetry

and colors beyond the simple hues of my vocabulary
i ache to see this and more

so many
i have never seen this many

sigh
i turn off the light
i blind myself to a rare beauty
better i fold my memories
and stuff them into the journal of my heart
than beauty should suffer
at my hand

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

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