no more talk of dreams
that trailing…buzzing sound
dreamzzz is for another day
no more of sleepeee…drowseee
dilute diminutive of “e”
I’m sand man…I’m for sleep
that closing consonant
a “puh” as if…
to blow a candle out
no more talk of drugs
that slurring trick of alcohol
to stagger brain and tongue
masquerading…slumber thought
I’m sand man…I’m for sleep
to prompt light track circadian
to awake shining with the sun
and slumber deeply with the moon
no more talk of death…
some mornings I place evidence
just a tiny grit of tears
that there has been rehearsal
for certain submissive…loom, yet
I’m sand man…I’m for sleep
to rest you for the lighting
and the blazing of the flame
Bonnie Marshall
Art by J. R. R. Tolkien
Proem... 
closing eyes
lullabies
~
softening our
darkening sky
Such a lovely favor of your poem…and I’m pleased you hear the lullaby in mine. Smiles.
Do you think, Bonnie, if I talk as sweetly to the sand man…he’ll have a word with the muse?
Well…I don’t know about that because sand men are a rougher lot than muses…and our muses do hang out together so well…wouldn’t do anything to disturb them…no siree.