I begin to wonder
under lightning and thunder
a cold proposition
a sleep so sound
under blankets profound
Waking thinned, unveiled
undressed without fail
the curtains open to the solo act of life
I am alone on a stage
lonelier than a solitary alphabet on a page
performing to an audience
without a unique face
lacking the vision for grace
Examined, scrutinized
until my eyes are closed
and I invent movement and patterns
that shall appease
But I move without motion
amidst the noise and commotion
when I find myself seated back in the crowd
without an act to follow
The displeased audience demands a show
but who shall oblige?
I sink into my seat
my hands to my feet
lucky to wake up between my sheets
warm in my retreat
Write up to the Moment 