While we Sleep

While We Sleep In the silent cold of the desert night cacti share a lonely trance they stretch their stubby, prickly arms the glow incites this awkward dance they rest their ship on a vacant dune shield their eyes from brilliant glare the light that burns from distant moon is more than they can bear they have come to plant their rabid seed that will race across the desert plane to hunt the sleepers on which they feed the seed now sewn, they await the rain

Deckard

I began writing poetry when I was a teenager and it truly saved me from a destructive path. 'Time Heals' will be on my grave stone'. I have 3 incredible kids who are the greatest gifts that God has given me. If I have advice to give to aspiring...

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