Under fibreglass skies

At night, the shadows stalk

Whispers heard in reversed talk

Haggard walk by,

drip stand held tight.

Mysterious masses

hover nearby,

Hunching over

like shepherds’ watching

their flock under a red sky.

 

Under fibreglass skies

ceiling tiles

Pockmarked

with smoke detection

devices,

like acne scars over

Feint light, flightless I lay,

Unable to make

Sense of the change

from night to the day

 

Gentle beeping,

the rhythmic breathing

Of oxygen machines wheezing,

the sleepy feeling

Slowly enveloping me.

And I sink into my own eyes,

Into the darkness

that sits behind.

 

Peaceful

Slumber drifts

Like detritus

On the inky depths

of darkness

The soft exhales

of midnight sounds

Ruffle the sails,

taking us to

peaceful paradise.

Toning the

nightmares down

For one more night.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading
Follow this link for more.
https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff

 
You can find my New books
"Tales from the 44A" and "Stations
here
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DBKXPN13/
and here

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0DFV8N7XH

 

Please buy a copy if you can

it would really help me
continue to do this.

Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle