April 12 : Cityscape

fingers hover over keys storm clouds over a city so close-- almost touching fingertips to rooftops one drop, two, a million pour a story bounces off bricks throws itself into gutters drains to the sewer muddy mess lingers weeds sprout between the cracks but wildflowers take root too

April 11 : Bed

Bed like a temple where only I am allowed to worship. Bed like a cloud from an oil painting so full and heavy. Bed like a hammock in paradise so quiet and cradling. I sink between the layers, and stretch in the deliciousness.