Last Night by Curtis SethalerThe 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 © 2025 Curtis Sethaler
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