Clear as a day

Clear as a day

I see

the home, the picturesque family

framed in the firmament of my dreams,

sounds of mirth escaping to street

Clear as a day

I see

the anthology, in print,

ahead of expectations and time,

readers lining up for a copy.

Clear as a day

I see

with eyes closed, not asleep.

As I  tread each day

with caution, with care

making way through nightmares

wearing slumber as my guise

to appear awake,

(with eyes open, asleep)

Breath a burden unlike any,

a sigh suspended mid-heave,

unsure of what to be-

a gale life-giving

or a resignation mid-stream.

(As) The canoe of my being

bobs helpless,

adrift time.

And I choose yet again

to write, to live.

Hang my boots I will sometime, tomorrow.

Today I write, today I dream,

with words flowing or clogged up.

with eyes open or closed,

awake or asleep.

Despair is my muse.

Insomnia my date.

Clear as a day.

The anthology, the happy family

are only around the corner.

I only have to keep up until

I make it

past the chasm of reality

that's keeping me from leaping

to the dreams I can see and feel,

clear as a day.

Born of winter

I dream of the spring