Sleep, My Children

 

Sleep,
my children.
Pay no mind
to the bullet holed butterflies
draping against your windowsill.
Snuggle between the sheets of
past due bills
and prayers,
flicking away the crawlers
gnawing in the nigh

 When you wake,
children,
run.
Over the high trees
of forest green weeds.
Past the devils cornered playground
of snow sold in pounds.
Maneuvering beyond the bodies
of mis-educated zombies. 
Into heaven,
where the school bell rings.

Your soles will burn
from the battle
of toes
fencing your shoes
that throw fists
at cement

 But for now,
my children,
Sleep.