Bedtime

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.