About the Poem
This is a poem about the heightened consciousness which occurs when drifting into sleep, a time when anything is possible.
|by Brendan Hunt|
|Sometimes the silent hand of frost leaves bare a single shrub,
a verdant atoll in an ocean of white.
Sometimes, the human heart finds a home in a place
never considered in the harshness of the day.
Sometimes, when you stare at me with your green eyes of hatred,
I am unmoved by your gaze.
Sometimes, only at night; in the land between awake and asleep;
comes a consciousness where all is possible.
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