When I wake, I ask my dreams to wait awhile
before retreating to clouds’ dispersal,
so I can sit without all consumed,
bathe with meadows stillness as
hooves silently move between wilding imprints
and costal curve, my own wait to breathe themselves
into this moment, count curlews as they cry
among plumes of instinctual call,
and dance with moon’s limitations before
sun greets herself here, manes glisten
cascading below shadows waiting to chase
sands disperse from places of keepsakes,
and I inhale each one’s own fragrance
catching sand watch it fall between fingers
submitting to sky so stars could find a resting spot,
and I lay dreams caress flutter lashes, instincts reach out
place hand on hip arc, forming spoon
that nights turn parted, breaths now synch
joining dreams, fingers feel soft slow rise and fall
of slumber beneath trees contented joy sculpting his own
oblivious to what waits upon waking, interlocked fingers
two faces into the unknown.