My own sepulchre.

My own sepulchre.

On the changing of the shifts

through the corridors

of deep space, sleeping.

I wondered....

if I was in my own sepulchre....

for my subconscious dreams

didn't travel far in the dark of night.

Daylight always lifted the lid.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

for some reason this poem resonated with thoughts of the first "Alien" movie...

but yes, there is always night...the darkness, going to bed with too many thoughts...but daylight lifts the lid...and we breathe once again.

[andrew mitchell]

Thanks jacob and what a movie it was Alien in the first opening moments of horror at the dining table! So unexpected at the time!!