Gift

Gemstars fleck
the backs of your eyes
where you dive
when you’re sleeplooking
at dreams he’s clutched
inside his tiny fists.
I’ll sing you lullabyes,
and share them for you;
I’ll thread a loom
with skysilk
and weave
a moonsong blanket
to keep him dreaming.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.