Sleeping Time

when their eyes
become sleepy like
falling leaves
of the evening wind
like windows
closing
like lights being turned
off from
a distance
i become a bag egg
refusing to crack
as others wait
what is inside the
shell
i sort of close my door
and continue
what i do and
never stop doing it.
you know what i mean
as you are
following what i am
doing now.
i am not alone in
this
for you are here with
me
doing the thing
that you cannot stop
doing.
i know what you mean
and i know
what you are up
to
what you are at
what you want to do
till darkness cracks
to a morning
slit of light.
you know me now
for i do
what you do
too.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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