1:58 AM and a small Blizzard

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
i stay up late a lot. here's how one of my nights went. It was just...really peaceful.

Submitted: February 15, 2012

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Submitted: February 15, 2012

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1:58 am.

It is not the time for sleep.

It is a time of quiet,

Of others' stillness.

It is my time alone.

I roam the house,

Barefoot,

Silently,

Like a creature of the night.

The lights are off.

It is a time of darkness.

***

Outside,

A thick blanket of white covers

The ground.

orange light

from lamp posts

reflects,

coloring the world.

White flakes hurry from

The sky

Only to come to a rest atop

The

White brick fence

Around my backyard.

***

It is probably freezing

Out there.

I wouldn’t know.

I warm my feet

On the furnace vent

As I consider

The words

That come to mind.

***

Pour myself

A glass of orange juice.

The fridge light

Is blinding bright.

***

Return to the darkness!

***

Return to the heat vent!

***

I sit criss-cross on the vent.

Furry critters nestle

On my

Shoulders.

Warm, and affectionate.

They lick my cheeks

With warm moist tongues.

Now,

Their time is up,

The vent is off.

I creep back to

My room.

Put my rats away

Nestle in a pile of blankets

On the floor.

Open my computer,

And

Spew the story of my night

Onto a white page.

***


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