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.
Flitting.
Humming.
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.
WrittenCasey 