It's dark lite.
Not yet today.
No longer last night.
Middletime.
Stillness cradles.
Hush resounds.
Stairs creaking.
Lamp casting.
Memories of dreams
fade.
I begin to assemble
myself.
Two legs, two wheels
accoutrements
off I go.
Chasing myself
the long way
home.
I mother, therefore I write. These are the days of my life.
