States of Conciousness in the Night of Lotic Ecosystems

Falling through the dark water of sleep
like a rock, a smooth black stone
sinking toward the strange light
in the riverbed that is revealed,
slowly in the dream current, as dusk
not dawn, I settle into another
silty night of salmon roe and
crayfish scuttling across the ceiling,
riparian monsters evolving into tomorrow.

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About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
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