Tickle my ear at three in the morning
Brush the bottom of my foot with mist
See the dreams I carry that do not rhyme
Remember the fallen that rest in the corner of the eye
A phase-shift out of reach, stuck in the web of mind
Take the tack off the desk
Move the keys under the couch
Roll the pencil out of reach
But never talk to me as one who is dead,
My breath’s bank of days still holds cash
-by Shannon Laws
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Shannon Laws
Shannon P. Laws, born in Seattle, Washington, lives and writes in the Pacific Northwest. Author of three poetry books, "Madrona Grove", "Odd Little Things", and "Fallen" and an audiobook of her one-woman satire show on mid-life dating, "You Love Me, You Love Me Not". For seven years she produced award-winning community radio programs that promoted the PNW indie music & art community. Shannon's other interests include operating her voice-over company, Chickadee Productions, and Poetry Club. Since 2015 Poetry Club is dedicated to the neighborhood discussion and sharing of poetry, now available on Podbean at https://poetryclub.podbean.com/
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