“Stardust is made of cheese
asleep in its own shoes,”
my mind repeats,
hoping for a little of each.
Sleep first. That glorious time
when movies and music play,
and I, the star, am the hero
hoping for a resolution.
Then cheese, and showers,
and shoes, and tea.
Water with lime and mint
as I play examining stardust.
Ha, I love the interplay of the imagination, the mind without much sleep, and the concrete needs of the body here. A wonderful end of marathon poem.