The cold air
Purses both lips,

As low rooftops
Pray for each exhale,

And await those now
Who can feel it
As they fly in their dreams
Overhead –

Seeing these streets
From above,

Where lamplights fade
Like depictions,

Of better thoughts had
Before falling
Between thick sheets
Pooling sweat

And believing one’s death
Ever close
Behind lifetimes spent
Upon pillows

When reality hurts
More than sleeping
Every illness away
As we wish.

No radical change
Coming soon,

Short of scarier nights
Getting ready
At the cusp of dawn
Feeling anxious,

But ready to jump
Nonetheless –

Fearing God won’t catch
Certain stars
Thrown off hopes
Out of heavens
Since pain keeps clouds
As faith’s cushion
Before cutting us loose
Through such gas.

Plumes can’t lift
Heavy hearts
Pushed by grief
Facing illness,

Dancing with loss
Growing winded –

Every song ends
During sleep.

  • J. Pigno

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