Afternoon Nap
Flat on my back
I waste a sleepy
Sunday afternoon,
Just a few breaths
Left in the room,
Approaching end
Of a restless phase,
Taking my space.
Smiling to no one,
Wild child never
Left my side,
Not that it needs
A justification,
In sweetness
The means trump
Intention.
The source is
Elusive, unformed
Aloof and free,
Like me, she
Does not belong
To anything,
Except maybe
Her naked soul.
Random voices,
Like good sleep,
Are opaque,
Middle distance
Perspectives
To differentiate
The ache of
The ages.
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