to dream

a thin line of dust

covers the pen

as the ink dries

paper once white

now yellows

and curls

tomes opened

to random pages

lie scattered and forlorn

an old quilt

draped across

the writers chair

creeps slowly

slowly

to the floor

the writer

has gone off

to dream

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s