Last Night

Westerly rumbles woke me.
Naked and soaked,
you fell, like the raindrops-
from nowhere into my bed.

Lightning was your halo,
thunder, your taj mahal.

Now sparks flash
through my morning slippers,
disturbing the nosy cat
searing my flustered eggs.


Pris Campbell
©2004

Art: Crashing by Pris Campbell


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