Morning holds my dreams,
Night awakens life in me,
Day begins anew.
Shall we think of blooms?
A child’s breath fades in stillness.
Suffering is real.
A lone drop descends,
Joining countless rain below:
United silence.
Dreams slip through my hands.
Do I hold them, or do they
Take me far away?
I asked for answers,
but my parents stood quiet still.
The infant just knew.
Death does not ask us,
It knows its place, above all.
No thought required.
Come tomorrow’s sun,
Yesterday whispers softly—
Time folds on itself.
A blue-tailed lizard
Climbs the wall, smooth and certain.
Grace in swift motion.
A cuckold at rest.
His night begins as ours ends—
Lonely, sleepless watch.
Good night, dear dancers.
The candle sings of mornings—
Flickers, fades to dark.
About the Creator
Ernest Taulbee
I live in Louisville, KY with my two daughters and two dogs. Eastern Kentucky University graduate. X: @GordonTaul72113. For more: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Ernest-Gordon-Taulbee/author/B01GGRCKJO. Appreciate all reads and comments.
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