The silence in the midnites hour
Of getting up in the beck and call of the insistent...
Of the window shuffle
If the kiss of cold glass ..a...Frigid benediction on the forehead.
And the thankfullness of getting through another hours rest.
The inner smile
The inner triumph
I stood up!
Hand raised in triumph
To reach for the bottle of forgetfulness.
The whisky glass sweats
As,it waits for desision..or derision.
What will it be tonite?
The befurred slippers
Bunnies under the bed
Wait..attuned..attentively to slip,across the floor, as your feet chase their rear entered orafice
You will someday..kick said orafice for so much work.
The clock winks..and again as it ticks, ticks ticks
Its a trick trick trick
Your face lit by the bic as you light up the stick...
So we shuffle onto bed
Another chapter read
The bunnies under tread
The imprint on the window
Turning to water once again.
Be of gentle soul Spiney