Sleep flows softly with the sun,my eyes half-shut
With thin fragments of dreams under the eye-lids.
Weary- and bleary-eyed, I look at the solid world
Of furniture wood and wall television for space
For a release of wall space from concrete pillars
Into the air like tiny birds flapping their wings
Of avian freedom and heavenward ascent in sun
As their puny bodies rise against his golden glory.
