wake
crumbs of sleep residue
crumble under pressing
digits
quickly liberate my sight
from dream halucinations
breaking into day with
unkempt hair
i dare not stare into the light
too bright is the sting
that follows
Good Mourning
realization dawning
that birds sing
and seagulls scream
pleased to be at peace
for once
waking up
and writing for once
lost, only a few days ago
and now
not completely found
but kept in the box in reception
to be claimed

