Awaking to silence
I hear breathing
My own and
Yours as I
Stare into darkness
Grabbing my phone
To write you
Stir have I
Awakened you or
Are you stretching
Like a cat
Turning to me
You drowsily stare
Like a child
Wondering how how
What I’m not
Sure surely knowing
That I write
Then I feel
A kiss on
My chest followed
By a hand
You knowing I’m
Doing what I
Am and me
Knowing what you
Mean to me
This morning’s sky
Looks as if
Saul dumped a
Bag of cotton
Balls there with
Long white streaks
Like a cats whiskers
The tree tops
Glow like big
Nightlights yellow and
Green like early
Autumn gourds spindly
Trunks shoot in
All directions like
The spokes of
A bicycle as
Birds gab and
Rumor about chill
Here this morning
On coming rain
Looms like the
Flashing lights of
A patrol car
In rear-view mirrors
Creating an anxiety
Until you’re wet
Hoping for thunder
Stormy days make
Me want to
Curl beneath blankets
Like critters burrowing
Deeper together huddling
Waiting for clouds
To pass by
The morning dark
Except for flashes
Of light and
Thunder like evil
Wizards are fighting
Storms approach quickly
Like galloping horses
As the air
Is thick with
Moistures like loofa
Sponges sudsy with
Rain the morning
Is stirred like
A soupy pot
The night hangs
In tall trees
Clouds of moon-glow
Wisps of Luna’s
Veil drapes the
Mighty pines as
Soupy clouds drift
Lower like tails
Of kites getting
Caught in power
Lines haunting the
Ghoulish landscape frightens
Even birds as
They whisper their
Quiet morning melodies
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 