1 min read

By Abby Wilkins

Edward Little High School



Apollo peeks up under resting lids

I try to swat the tickling sun’s rays

-A tease that always sought the eyes I hid-

But laughter never frees, just yawns away

I arch my back and stretch my arms and turn

The light rolls with me, spooning my spine, but

it’s darkness and starlight that my dreams yearn

So I burrow: sheet a shell, I the nut

Awaking took its toll, I’m caught between:

amid a night vision and a daydream,

Day’s punishment for the rules I’d not seen

I rest in doldrums, without care of real

of fantasy, in which nothing reveals

its true alignment; I’ve become surreal

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