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Last Night

by Curtis Sethaler

The window is open a touch too far
The cold, cold air whipping in is too much for me.
My feet are falling victim to the cold cold draft.
If only I were smaller I would fit under my blanket..
But then,
What good would I be.
As it is and I am, My feet stick out.
The light coming through the curtain is yellow.
Allowing just enough in to faintly light the room.
The door is silently rocking in the breeze,
It lacks the ominous screech to frighten.
I watch its gentle motion until,
Until,
My eyes,
They become,
Heavy.
And then,
I drift away...

07/09/2011

Posted on 07/10/2011
Copyright © 2021 Curtis Sethaler

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 07/12/11 at 02:22 AM

Window, breeze, and door - a nice lulling trio. Thank you.

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