Sabrynne Buchholz

Joltingly, you wake, and there is penumbra
Intrinsic gray has settled softly behind drawn curtains
A caliginous dusk to wrap securely around you
Chase away the furtive evils that lurk behind closed eyelids
Bad dreams and wraiths crouch low at the edges of dimmed vision

Gossamer is gathered up in corners
An abandoned dominion, a canopy
Deeply breathing in a fragrant chilled air
The window is still open
And this dwelling’s deep-set hum is covered by lilting cricket chirrup

A soothing aria so hushed and muffled
Against your insistent, heavy pulse
Hellebore blooms like ebony along the dark light
Much gentler than the familiar bleeding stain you see in trepid dreams
A murmuring of light and sound and shapes in tender conjured sight
When eyes become too heavy, a sweeter image manifests