the moon is a sickle
the sky a pastel palette
i slowly awake as dawn
gives a yawn
and a sleepy greeting

pillow soft, and warm
fragments of a dream
flicker in my mind
as I try to cling on to their meaning,

i can hear a distant sound
strangely familiar, a
subtle disturbance
becoming ever more present,
pressING
STRESSing
alarm! clock! rrrrringing

dr     a     g         g      i       ng
me out of the dream i was living in

and i am once again
born
unto
this new day