Morning gratitude

The Ballad of the Nightstand

A short ballad, crafted while I have a cold.


The air leaves our lungs trapped in our throats breathless and gasping our movements automatic we know we are dying as darkness dances in our eyes our drumbeat heart demanding that we slow that we calm the air leaves our lungs as tension blocks its return the mind’s cruel trick over our bodies - Caroline … Continue reading Breathless


Days of chasing our own tails as we twist ourselves into flexibility burdened like mules with our responsibilities daily life a scream machine without the thrill or adventure but the racing heart the careful plan the hours spent out until we bankrupt ourselves - Caroline A. Slee


Beneath star dust and bright skies we lose ourselves to sleep closing ourselves from the light behind heavy eyelids - Caroline A. Slee