Tumbleweed

Sunsets make me sad
and remind me of my emptiness in crowded buses
filled with men I'll never see again.

Sunsets also make me happy
because in this world so full meaning,there are a few things
that do not need to be understood to be loved.

Sunsets remind me of trying to count time,
like looking at the huge clock with roman numerals
 instead of regular numbers,in somebody else's living room.

Sunsets make me nostalgic,
of all the nights spent staring at glow in the dark galaxies
stuck to the ceiling like lying awake in a dream.

Sunsets set me free,to hope that
 one day I turn into tumbleweed,wandering without purpose,
or a dandelion,disintegrating,dancing with the wind.

"That knits the ravelled sleeve of care."

Sweet lingering fragrance of commercially chemical chamomile shampoo drifts through the room,weaving subtly  into my  thoughts,each less relevant in connection to another.
Sunshine stands preserved among these walls washed white,clean of distraction,as if pickled in a glass bell jar,oh dear mellow old sunshine.
Mid-morning is always such a slow  dance,a lazy serenade,oh gentle sunshine.
And here rest my "penthouse lids",heavy with sleep,as Shakespeare once said,and many poets probably followed to use.
And like every day,I  fall in love,fall in love,once more.
Fall in love with my whims and fancies,because nothing as well as those defines me.
Fall in love me the muffled sounds of the world in motion,making revolutions towards discoveries that await me in full conscience,put away,stacked in a shoebox I bury only to dig out in a future unimagined.And the comforting breath of another world draws me in-
I fall in love with ideas I din't know I could summon,each new  one like a soapy bubble,fragile and exciting,
but gone too soon,before the next in a reverie-And nothing makes sense.And nothing needs to make sense.
Yes,I fall in love with sleep.