The one bold bird late at night ruffled his feathers and cut the darkness

Cylindrical mirror
cobalt tint
Sunday morning and the slats
of blinds with too much dust
and fingerprint marks
as if some one were trying to escape at night
while I slept

Birds chirp
all day
but I like the loud ones at night
because they wait until the stage is silent
They're too smart
to become part of the rush hour white noise

That's why I do my best work
at night
when almost everyone else has gone to bed

That's when you should listen to me
if you can keep your eyes open
or at least your ears

I saw her in my dream last night
she smiled

You know the only disappointing thing about dreams
is not that they never happened
but that
they ultimately mean so very little

And maybe i'd be better off as a dream
because at least you'd have a vague
fond memory
and in that
you will find something to smile about me
during your long day
of waking