Day Twenty-Three

DAY TWENTY-THREE

JUST BEFORE DAWN

walking in Central park

half the sky is red

but hardly by the time

the world gets out of bed

the canvas half repainted

mixed up messed up blue

I'm coughing up my guts

climbing these great hills

feeling like I'm stuck

inside a big balloon

hoping that it's tethered

to a firmly planted tree

I don't want it to pop

and fall back down to ground

I need to get a little closer

to the moon if only to confirm

that daylight comes sometime

just before dawn long after dark

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