poetry by j matthew waters


I feel feverish and contagious
and utterly powerless
like a little boy with no place to go
superman cape
hanging in adjacent closet
I sit all alone at the foot of my bed

do I dare slip under the covers
and fall fast asleep
knowing I may never awaken
or do I simply recite every prayer
I’ve ever been taught
repeating one after the other
until the morning light

november two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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