last night
sleep won’t come and
the night gets long the
pillow warm and the changing
thought races seeing
faces running past hearing
harsh words and things to do
and things to remember and
slowly
the lane is turning
pale and the giant
turtle speaks “it depends
on what you seek,” so
i sit on the turtle’s
back as we fly across
the golden checkered hills
soaring above the cherry flavored
clouds diving down to crystal
plains flying farther than i should
and what was it she said i
need to get milk and take out
the trash because the car
payment is due so i turn
the pillow over again and
watch the clock click
half past
two
(C) K. Jay 2009
Labels: poetry
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