the dark still hangs. only broken by the wandering headlight or two. overcast moon waits for her turn. the heater begins to hummmm through.
heating hum melts into the pitter-patter. a harmony in the night, no audience to hear. does it matter? what is it about the black to fear?
fear that sits like the dead man on your chest. quilted heavy, full of family stories wrapped and warm. alarming and calming. feelings torn.
darkness keeps the morning away. torn apart - seams of the blanket. a heavy coffin. it helps me sleep. finally asleep with the dead man.#