Poetic voices in the night
I have reached an utter calm
the dog lays at the end of the bed
chewing on a rawhide bone
the stars have not quite come to life
but the air is thick with bugs
campfire dances across the street
I lay safe in bed and warm
my blankets are thick and heavy envelopes
I myself a secret letter
No one knows of who I am
or what I am, except the night
stuffed animal stands guard
its beady eyes protective
the soft sound of the fan
the smell of bug spray on my skin
my eyes grow itchy with no sleep
my breathing smooth and quiet
crickets chirp outside the camper
beneath the long, thin grass
the orange flashlight stands by
waiting to be needed.
My feet and back and neck ache
from shopping all day long
at garage sales filled with treasures
a neighbor starts their car and drives away
out to have fun 'fore light of day
and nothing knows of me
but the sweet smell, the drooping, heavy velvet, of gorgeous night
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