Preamble

“A ruffled mind makes a restless pillow.”

— Charlotte Brontë

I’d like to just sit here with no real agenda, 

no more checklist, even though my work-

space is filled with yellow sticky notes, 

I let that fade far off and away,  

allow the weariness to settle, my body 

sinking, the sun sagging low as light falls 

in shafts through the drapes, night pushing

the sun past the horizon, much as the tired 

pushes down my shoulders, makes heavy 

my eyes, creaks open the doorway

to dreamy thoughts, and lulls me

into the slowing preamble of sleep.

—C.L. Fisher, May 2021

Unless otherwise indicated, all content, including writing and images, are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.

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