While you sleep

While you sleep,
cicada songs
rise and fade. A crow
flies south-southwest,
calling,
while you sleep.

The harbor-breeze
and redwoods marry
lemon, salt and
roses, eddies of leaves
and white butterflies
dance, ash trees rustle,
and winds
raise sails
of heated air to shred
the sun to haze,
to smear a softer edge
between here and there.
(And you're asleep.)

#celadonrefix #revised #poem

© Heather Gail Quinn, 2009.08.28, edited 2010.01.08, 2019.02.27, all rights reserved.