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Sleep before Midnight
by Joan Reese
Hot chamomile tea, sipped from rose colored porcelain cup
Quiets my nerves, ensuring a deep sleep.
Rain drops beat windowpane like a steel drum.
Lighting cracks, slicing open my unconscious.
Departed souls wordless influence;
Their presence feels like Florida august sun.
My Egyptian cotton sheets scented with Channel No. 5
Holds a treasure trove of dreams.
Woke up and found a poem on my pillow,
The color of lake mist rising.
Wrapped the poem around me like a thick down comforter,
Strengthening me for the daily race…
