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Suspicion ... 25 Feb 06
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2006 we don't suspect the coming of morning
with the curtains drawn
nor when the birds sleep in.
the moonbeams slip away,
the sunshine creeping--tiptoeing--
up the far side of the hill
the stillness gives way to wakening
the awareness outside rising,
but you dream on without suspicion.
the birds begin to slowly clean their wings,
yet they chirp not, intently wide-eyed
waiting
waiting
half the day passes and you snap alive
worried
about the loss of life when you don't suspect
day(break)ing over you
the sky must be falling--
the sun can't be on its way down
the sunlight slips away,
the moonbeams creeping--laughing--
up your overturned
hour(glass)
you're losing
time
((suspect the worst))
