Poetry For Everyday People
Peace Before Morning
The night finds us
somewhere between
air dancing in our lungs,
blood racing,
memories knocking
on yesterday's doors,
I don't even remember
what the door bell looked
like when I was a kid, I do remember
the lock on my window, I remember
opening a little crack in it at midnight,
I would sit by it, feeling as if I ran away,
man that cold air was Paris, crisp,
clean, rushing in, Johnny Carson
on my little black and white TV,
all the people I hated, faded,
my notebook under my pillow,
my number two pencil,
I could fix myself,
all night.
somewhere between
air dancing in our lungs,
blood racing,
memories knocking
on yesterday's doors,
I don't even remember
what the door bell looked
like when I was a kid, I do remember
the lock on my window, I remember
opening a little crack in it at midnight,
I would sit by it, feeling as if I ran away,
man that cold air was Paris, crisp,
clean, rushing in, Johnny Carson
on my little black and white TV,
all the people I hated, faded,
my notebook under my pillow,
my number two pencil,
I could fix myself,
all night.
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Peace Before Morning
Peace Before Morning
