Monday, June 13, 2022

144/365 - The Final Braid of Roving

 


I weave my way
down dusky dark corridors
too light to sleep
too dark to know 
where to go
but still I go
over and under
above and below
twisting my way
around and around
feeling the path
along the walls
down the halls
crisscrossing my tracks
so many times
I don't know anymore
searching forever
for that door
where sleep resides
and my dreams are stored


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