Counting Sheep
Tomorrow’s music silks through today
and finds me, drapes me with hope
soft as yesterday
and as real.
Vote for tomorrow,
subscription and redemption.
Bill me, 90 days same as
Try to remember a dream nestled
somewhere in a wide open space.
Headlights slant through the blinds.
Life ticks loudly, marking my pace.
Someone gives birth in the city outside;
someone just died.
Eyes need a night to spend the place.

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