I AM SOUND AS I LAY SOFTLY IN PILLOW’S HEART …

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The grey dawn mist of apples,

peering fresh, soaked, dew-lined and hearty

A mothers smile and fawns caress,

Limpid the water on the edge of time

I am humid, fervent, sweat-soaked and languid,

Washed by endless rivers of night

We jump like so many crazy locusts on electric wire,

Full, bound by every impulse

A night-hawks curr, the rush of blood to wounded scars

and bleeding wounds

Far into the night many moons,

hence the comets scare the starlings coal wings

A broken pencil, a fainting moment

and two antlers locked in boardroom crash

I am aware of all this as the derricks roar softly

and the sounds of lead mend in the night sky

Pity the saints who trod in firstborn purity,

only finding cave-worn habits and hostility

I am a moment, a flit, and birds beat of wing,

I am sound as I lay softly in pillow’s heart

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writtenbyedenbray08.08.87

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#NOTE ~ I wrote this poem in 1987 when I was 36 years old. I think I was in touch with my feminine side. – Edenbray

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