Sitting on the edge of my bed
I’m immediately woken up
my head is soaked and flooded
with thoughts of you raining down.
I can tell
the sky is already too full
a half an hour of darkness is left,
the jealous sun is threatening
to end our time together
and I can’t help, but write
making room for my sorrow
now that you’re all private.
I can remember a time
when you laid your books out
spilling off your blanket
sun-soaked smiles on the dunes.
You’ve finally found me
out here writing my words,
just as birdsongs are interrupting
this is how tomorrow starts.
Dragonfly Poetry 