Rhythms of sleep,
Not quite a snore.
Lighter.
Still untainted
By the insomnia
Of adulthood.
But not quite
Like the sweet, milky
rhythm of the cradle.
(I love poetry. This is one of my favorites. Simple but direct.)
a life worth living
Rhythms of sleep,
Not quite a snore.
Lighter.
Still untainted
By the insomnia
Of adulthood.
But not quite
Like the sweet, milky
rhythm of the cradle.
(I love poetry. This is one of my favorites. Simple but direct.)