Poetry: Chlorophyl
By: Tess Bybee
The Night says: “enough of this”
to me, and lays me to sleep on the grass beneath the trees.
The wind kisses each leaf, going from one to another
with no disruption of peace.
An insect crawled on my sleeve, and pushed it’s space
into my space.
I sat up, awoken and gently brushed it off, it caused
no harm, but I was alarmed and could not go back to sleep.
The leaves, they snored with ease,
sighing in the wind,
breathing out as I breathe in.
Then: the emerald and the chlorophyl,
the firmament, and the blades.
I needed to be awake.