Dusk

220 :: Dusk

it’s the color of dusk
when I am captive
on the bed with a nursing toddler
who won’t let go of my breast
and who won’t let go into sleep
because the world is too full
of wonderful things
and he says “turn off the light”
but there is no light on
to turn off –
only the soft glow of blue dusk
filling the room,
begging for a poem,
calling me to write
before I am claimed by dreams
and night

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