Thursday, November 11, 2010

Laying sleepless.

3 a.m. passes like the snow
plow, pushing off dreams
into the ditch, leaving me

in silence,

walking this road of noisy thoughts.


  1. Thanks, Dave! I'm never sure whether my writing makes sense to anyone but me. Thanks for the assuring words, dear friend.

  2. that's the shortest poem I've ever liked besides the silly ones by Ogden Nash. (If you haven't seen, look up "the termite" -- it had my 7th grade self in stitches. Totally unrelated to your poem in every way except brevity.)

    Much love. And enjoyment of fine writing. :)

  3. Hope tonight the snowplows are kept at bay and the only thoughts are of sleepy things and a mind quieted by peace and contentment on a healing mountainside.