28th September, '09
Clickety-clack
clickety-clack
slippers on cold marble.
Midnight meanderings.
A stomach gone hungry again.
Twisting-turning
Twisting-turning
a psyche about to boil over.
Eyes searching for some warm company.
Unceremoniously picked-up
Unceremoniously dumped
a ball of white fur
Curled up at my cold feet
Sleep visits me again.
Looking Away
-
. . . that story does not make sense. Babies can “report their experience”
and they do. They do so loudly. Persuasively. The “medical establishment”
appare...
3 days ago
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