The moon is magnetic.
It pulls old men out of bed,
to wander in nightshirts or half their pajamas.
Beams beckon to navigate halls,
with hidden compasses,
pointing to unseen fantasies and traumas.
Unresolved conflicts from the day before hold hands.
They dance through dreams;
shy first kisses,
Without touching the banisters,
sleepwalkers stumble on the horizon,
kitchen floor linoleum,
hours before the sun.
No Closings Announced
Where are the flakes falling,
both day and night;
cold leading to wood fires and cocoa?
Schools remain open and children fail
to slide down long hills
into a thrill of flying;
with a blinding new beauty.
William Fraker, author of Nostalgia Resides in the Marrow and Winner of Aquillrelle Poetry Contest, 4, Silver, has poetry in several on-line journals and contributed to Muscadine Lines: A Southern Anthology (KHR Ventures, 2006). He is a member of the Midlothian Writers’ Workshop and lives near Richmond, VA, USA.