Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2013
At night, my sleep- it ponders.
At day, my sleep- it wanders.
I search for the core of my thoughts, to drift into the feathers.

Of course-
They are separated by silk or satin.
By now-
I must have warmed both halves of my body.

It's 3 am...
I'm two hours late.
But the rabbit has no time to waste.
DP Younginger
Written by
DP Younginger  Cleveland, Ohio
(Cleveland, Ohio)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems