Treasure Island

Connie Yost

(5/27/38 / Reed City, Michigan)

Blanket Less


He dreams of a bed of soft feathers and down
The ultimate comfort there is to be found.
Want burgers and fries when I come home from town?
Shall we get the nice beagle we saw at the pound?
You're a vision, Sweetheart, in your pretty prom gown.
This place is all backwards, it's all turned around.

Sleeping is fitful, disturbed and unsound,
For the blanket less form on the cold hard ground.

Submitted: Sunday, September 08, 2013
Edited: Monday, September 09, 2013
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