On a hot
summer afternoon
I lay by
the window,
Looking up
at the clear blue sky
But who
dares to tread?
In the
blistering June.
A lone
eagle soars high
above in
the depths of the sky.
Soaring or
searching? Who can say?
A flight for
freedom or
Yearning
for a place to lay,
Bound? like
all of us?
Searching
for a place to rest?
A place to call
home.
Or scanning
a prey?
on the gentle waves of sleep, they ride
But I am no poet. No saint
Questions of life I don’t claim to solve.
Ever so softly, the mid-day nap
Tip taps on my pillow.
Between the living and dead
The chasm of sleep deepens.
I give in to my sweet slumber
And let the world around me dissolve.
On this hot afternoon summer.
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