Institutionalized

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Dawn light from the west
woke me this morning.
A winter’s moon so big and bright
it pulled back the curtains and,
with its white-light hacksaw,
cut through the bars on my eyes,
springing me from but six hours
in Sleep’s soft cell of solitary.
Of course I knew Day would never
approach me from behind,
not when Dark’s always
had my back. For a moment,
though, coming up from
the dreamy black water,
my consciousness gasped
and flailed until we attained
some buoyancy where
I could see the clock,
like it was San Francisco and
the great bay of day lay
between me and the security
of pillow and comforter.
I pulled the covers over my head
and crawled back inside, where
Dark and I returned to our
back-to-back cells,
locking ourselves away from
that damn lunar spotlight
and the lonely straight-life
of daily reality for another hour.

Today it was like dawn rose in the west. Luckily, I didn’t rise with it. Photo and wacky pre-dawn dream by yours truly.

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