The two brothers, <br />Mist and Fog. <br />Eerily suspended, <br />hover above <br />the barn. <br />It is not time as yet <br />for the birds <br />to unfluff, <br />nor for the rabbit <br />to squeeze <br />under the garden fence. <br />Your warmth wakes me. <br />Your fragrant skin <br />is close, <br />and patient. <br />A sleepy hand <br />wanders, <br />with cunning <br />and purpose, <br />where the welcome <br />singes its tiny hairs. <br />'Yes', <br /> mumble lips, <br />drunken with slumber <br />and drooling with promise. <br />Cushions, <br />rumpled <br />by the wisdom <br />of the past, <br />starched <br />by last night's love <br />and yet ready <br />for much. <br />Pillows, <br />one idle, <br />lonely, <br />caressing for two, <br />and <br />cradling spirits. <br />Moulding. <br />Holding. <br />Current <br />exchanged <br />and rising <br />to unknown heights. <br /> <br />Mist and Fog, <br />peeking <br />around the rafters <br />of our entanglements, <br />floating, nodding, <br />curling the smallest ones <br />and <br />smoothing the wetstone. <br />Welcome, Dew! <br />Faintly, <br />the creek, <br />also untiring, <br />murmuring <br />and flowing <br />to the end of time. <br />For us. <br /> <br />For YOU (who owns the other pillow)<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/before-dawn-2/
