Not Quite Day

The light pours
into another dimension.
Feeding frequently
on those lost songs,
we remember with
such resonance.
Firecracker ignites,
then dissipates.
Sirens, there are always
sirens in the night.
Pulsating through emptiness.
Ever woke-up
from a soundless sleep.
Ever wondered why
it’s always too early.
Dark outside and
not quite day.
That moment when
dreams are real,
and the rest.
The rest is what
we make-up as
we go along.
Haphazard connections.
Temporary states –
like wakefulness and
the beckoning of
an unmade bed.

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