Written by R. Christopher Hickok
In that quiet innocence
its rhythm.
When in waking
he feebly reaches to clear
his soul
or dreads the fading hour
and its haunts
stealing night after night
.
and fear not the cobwebs
the dream webs
cluttering and cobbling
under covers and curtains
for a moment
.
that she might be in peace
her beside her curse
despite his curse.
As it is above
there is no guilt in such a little death
a crushing in life
.
Text © R. Christopher Hickok
*
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This poem is about
When you have baggage
So does your other
And you both face the hour of the wolf