Wait the Sunrise

So here I’m lying on my bed in the later afternoon

with my dormroom closing in

I know my love is coming soon.

While the red of a setting sun runs fluid in the blooms,

I see the night bugs too fly in

through the window of my room.

Now raging restless, sighing, against the flying moon—

the plight of the curbside grass by sun

is dying off consumed,

yet the water tower hill rests behind my parched lagoon

beaming in the twilight where

my shadow’s going soon.

Now the lull of crickets and a million other tunes

nestle deep inside my head

as my thoughts begin to swoon.

And my impatient energy, to which I’m not immune,

chains me to my bed—

though waiting, I’ll attune.

Now the rising summer sun beats a yellow strewn
on the bricks all red and brown
as my chiptune jazz is hewn.
The blips of little bluebirds are soft if just too croon
with the million rays of morning
and my lover coming soon. 

NEXT

--Farewell Frat Row