I caught some sleep in my fingertips. I held the bits of dream that wanted to start and I rolled them between my finger and my thumb, playing with them. The playing made me soft and warm and drifting, so I teased the sleep into coming closer, but then I held it at bay, deliciously stirring the ideas of sleeping with my mind. Now I sink back into the pillows and I swoon, smiling with the simple delight of release. Smiling with deep sighs of contentment. The fuzzy white dream flutters against my waning consciousness and motions for sleep to come. Good night, sweet Weed, and sweet dreams!
Please come back tomorrow for a new “Weed Image of the Day” and let me know which ones you like.
We and our weeds are so much more than what we first appear to be.