Hour Twenty Four

I imagine that a lot of poets right now are ready to sleep. So that is the theme of the final prompt. Write a poem about sleep. What it is like to sleep, what it is like to dream, what you are dreaming about. But don’t fall asleep until you press Publish!

Sleep, dead on arrival. Dreams,
missing in action. Growing out
of my pineal gland, my spirit
reaching up for a starlight ballet;
finding only the soft pillow kiss
of midnight moon clouds.

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