The Earth sleeps in high limbs,
Swaying in tropical breezes,
Her cradle a nest of branches.
She slumbers coiled like a cat.
Her breast rises and falls
In the moon’s bright light.
She sleeps just outside
The door and waits.
Outside My Door
The Earth sleeps in high limbs,
Swaying in tropical breezes,
Her cradle a nest of branches.
She slumbers coiled like a cat.
Her breast rises and falls
In the moon’s bright light.
She sleeps just outside
The door and waits.
Susan Feathers 