Bama is Falling

i have never  anticipated nightfal over BAMA as much ask i now. As long i lay my uneasy back in the floor, disturbed more with the noise of pesky mosquitoes than the loud snore of my wife, interrupted with the long whistle of my son. Only this time i could measure his sanity under moonlight When fast asleep, rolling sometimes against, and  even over, his mother who often jabbed him even in her sleep, and moaned my name. There is difference between the light of the sweltering noon  and empty shadow of the night in Her sleep Only that Her senses are alert under the sun but still a roll-over of the emptiness of the bygone night which is also a consistent fraction of nature.

from my manuscript: BAMA IS FALLING.
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