Saturday, December 26, 2009



by DanaLynne Johnson

She walked through my window,

passing right through me

and disappeared in the middle of my room

before dawn broke,

before the sky caught fire.

I don't know her.

I don't know why she came,

but I hope she comes back:

I have so many questions

for the beautiful apparition.

I remember long dark hair,

the scent of cinnamon

in the darkness

the silence that is more

than the city asleep.

What was I supposed to learn?

When darkness regained its hold,

I relented,

My eyes closed.

My eyes closed.