Dying To The Moon

sleeping outside

the sunlight was shining down on the tall weeds,

and i could feel it’s heat warming my face,

against the flannel blanket, i rested my tired bones,

seemingly wasted from exhaustion after a deep slumber,

and everything was still.

one of those days after a long haul,

driving miles and miles to finally arrive safe,

at home where time waits for me,

and the sound of the wind chimes,

soothe the cobwebs of the week.

falling asleep under the stars is like dying to the moon,

and waking up is like being born again,

the fresh air kisses me gently,

with each breath i take, and it’s great,

to be home.

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