The body slows automatically.
I try to rejuvenate emphatically,
standing up, I dance around,
careful not to make a sound,
my son asleep downstairs.
Sitting down it's back again,
like a firm unwelcomed friend.
Deciding to get water with ice,
I plan to chill my insides nice,
fulfill this favorite task I bear.
Late, too late, dreamings announced
along with the sand man into the dim.
- no depth, thought, no colors due
in moments I'll sleep, poetry half through -
cocooned in blankets, without a care.
Welcome to Four Lines! I have a goal I would like to write at least four lines of poetry or a haiku every day for the rest of my life. I'm excited about this challenge! Also, along with my daily poem, I will be reading at least four lines of another author's poetry. I'll try to include that here also. So I'm thinking - how difficult can it be to read and then write one poem a day? We will see! - Claudia
All poems on this blog, unless noted, are written by Claudia Callaghan.
© 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 Claudia Callaghan
Used only with permission. Please feel free to join Four Lines and request permission.