the why when of twilight bedding

Paul Kloppenborg

the whywhen of twilight bedding
specks of silhouette genuinely lean
through a clumsy closing day as birds
read clouds, and in greyness, survey

an almost child, slightly, yawning
cribbed memories, curtains to trees,
clutching her secret pillow breaths
of stilling sighs, she slowly speaks

to birds, that hauntingly descend,
suddenly tucked fresh with whispers,
"Try to sleep.", this covering kiss
un-edged, shooing all now and this

speechlessly, dull dots scatter, nearly
nodding, this darkening space, perhapsing
into air, enters with dreams to obey
as shutness pulls lids and flies away

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The 2River View, 1_4 (Summer 1997)