"I am hearing poetry when awake, dreaming poetry when asleep, breathing poetry with each breath, I am living in a poem."

Thursday, June 23, 2011

My Grief Sleeps With Me

My grief sleeps with me,
rustling the sheets to keep me awake.
There is no formula to say
when sorrow should not consume.

Tears are the sheep I count.
I toss and turn in my memories,
my hand reaching to touch your face
only to feel  air dancing on my fingertips.

If tomorrow I will hurt less,
then please end this night.
Even the moon outside my window
has hidden its face from me.

©Susie Clevenger 2011


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