Each night as sleep
catches way onto my vessel
as it slinks away from harbor,
the birds' calls sound pas and dance
around my windows and shades
framing the panes with harmonious aches
of world weary breezes and eyes-shut distances.
I am finding a chirp
amidst the twilight roar
that is choking the new dawn,
cutting its throat and spilling the blood
onto deep carpets of dark.
Song of my slumber,
this echo of a chorus,
may you continue on your narrow path
paved with bright melodies
while I continue to drink
the velvet syrup inside my head.
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