Stumbling into the silence of morning,

The air too bright beyond the cellar window

For eyes nestled in sleep’s soft bosom.

Time ticks away on the nightstand.

A watch face bleeds its digits upon clear glass,

Hands marching a hypnotic circumference,

Beg return to sleep-soft sheets

For a few minutes more of precious dreaming,

Before the robin calls in the dawn.

Confusion

Broken window

Shards of glass

Dropped on the floor

A loud crashing of the

Unbroken bowl as they

Run from it

Poor creatures

Terrified

She asks

"What happened here?"

Answer now given away

Your mouth remains

Closed tight

Unspoken