Description
Darling, “don’t close the door at night,
I still need to count birds until the
moon will let me sleep.”
My husband left the door half-opened,
even if it makes a crappy sound,
he agrees with my decision.
In each feather that lands on my temple,
It makes me close my eyes,
and start dreaming about the
King and Queen,
watching the jester dances.
He also juggled three balls around his body,
but he ends up hitting himself.
Crowds go jumping and standing up against the
wall, to get a laugh from a humbled fool.
I want to join his desolation but when I
heard a loud blast, I awakened,
realizing that it was just a
bird, drumming
a block of wood at 6’o clock.