Winding down, descent into bedtime, the plane
is landing. Rough sheets, honest & white.
Dog curled up on his pillow, a life less
material, yet more bound. I drop the books,
I drop the pen. The sunlight falls on open
grass and shatters into pieces the dreamworld’s
colours are clearer, the rainbow’s shards brighter.
Too clear, I’ve dropped my body. I fiddle with my toe ring.
My list of books to read is growing; the list
of books to forget is forgotten. The mosaic
lamp casts its aura - broken rainbow glass.
Look, Dax, tomorrow starts another life,
with every sun that rises we are born
with every sun that sets it rises for someone
else. It’s time to go to bed, you dolt.