Les Rêves des Notre Ours #1 | Page 18

Dawn

My grizzly eyes Drink in the darkness Of my pillow cave.

Trapped safe between the folds Of blanket rock I lock back into sleep.

Light washes in The tide of day Drowning.

Morning swells Slamming my organs I reject the day.

Arbor

The jaded leaves close in and crack The knots, they stretch and yawn The gnarled splinters coil in tight Salute the night ‘till dawn.

The golden fades behind the line The scarlet bleeds like ink The single skeleton of oak Turns dark against the pink.

By Jess Hawes