scribbles

I take a break
from endless work
to dream a little
of you...
The evening at my window
has suddenly, quietly set while
I wasn't looking, and the stars
are suddenly, softly out.
There's a tune that's haunting me
from another twilight dream
It's thrumming--insistent:
waiting to be played by us,
waiting (like me) for reality.

(I'd cleared out my desk,
thrown away pages of doodles--
The hearts and bubbles and
cute lil poodles
don't belong with me.)

And now I've spent longer than I meant to:
Too little work done
I've doodled again while I
dreamed a little of you.