A Time Before Winter

Falling asleep by the purple curtains,

the hail dropping like knuckle sized

sacraments by my window, the dew

awakens-

somehow it does-on the syrupy

 absinthe green arborvitae.

Ripping through the clutched

dream, I awake just to listen to

the half eaten sound of the milkweed

drying in the breeze.

A sound reminding me of a time before winter.