Drawing Worry

The day might disturb your sleep as you
Carry on into the low, low mist.
Past whatever was burned away.
Pass entire groups of words while at it.
Bring her back and close your eyes a bit tighter.
You don't want to see the wrecks of men while there,
although they still frequent your sleep like whatever rebellious little trespassers.
Visit your dreams for what?
To be swallowed by the same surrounding walls as you are – silly.

But it's their eyes, the ones that flee every straight question.
The ones that draw worry in small circles around you.