the
why when of twilight bedding
Paul
Kloppenborg
the
whywhen of twilight bedding
specks of silhouette genuinely lean
through a clumsy closing day as birds
read clouds, and in greyness, survey
an
almost child, slightly, yawning
cribbed memories, curtains to trees,
clutching her secret pillow breaths
of stilling sighs, she slowly speaks
to
birds, that hauntingly descend,
suddenly tucked fresh with whispers,
"Try to sleep.", this covering kiss
un-edged, shooing all now and this
speechlessly,
dull dots scatter, nearly
nodding, this darkening space, perhapsing
into air, enters with dreams to obey
as shutness pulls lids and flies away
The
2River View, 1_4 (Summer 1997)
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