A sun pokes through

My appendenages blanch the blankets.

My duvet is a pacific northwestern grey sky.

I wore it in my flip flop dance of toss and turn all night.

Third pillow fastned tight between legs and arms.

A downy company warmed then warming.

Vigil in anticipation.

Of the bed not being an ocean, but perhaps a sea.

The release of tides of sheets leaves me drenched

In cold morning. I do not mind.



The cat begs attention and food.

Stalking her way into my awareness.

The snow play of last night is a black and white still.

Outside my window.

I replay it in my mind’s eye.

Then a sun appears

And everything shimmers.

Shivers of strings

Of colors falling

On blanketed.

Author: writtencasey

I am fascinated by the scientific endeavor and I read about or engage with those processes as much as possible. I am a compulsive reader and writer. With a background in anthropology and as an arm-chair/backyard scientist, I hope to improve my writing skills and learn about any areas of weakness or misunderstanding in my analytic skills. I am excited to share. Thank you for spending time here. Please reach out if you are so inclined. I'd be excited to hear from you.

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