Napping Poem by Wayne Jackson


Napping
By Wayne Jackson

The hum of the wind in the trees
Of cars passing
The refrigerator
The hum of the blood
Next to the ear drum
The thump of the heart
The things the eyes inside
See passing
When I nap on the couch
Afternoons
And the sun comes in
Through the big windows
Red and purple and green
Through
My closed eyelids

I want to follow those hums
These colors
To where they are going
Float inside a cup
Like a tea
Bag

Copyright © 1997 by Donald Wayne Jackson, All rights reserved

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