Runaway Sleep

Sleep eludes me

hiding under my pillow, slipping round the bedroom door

and running down the hall and away

to hide, laughing at me softly, behind the sofa

I look for it under the remote control

and in the screen of the television

It isn’t there

Nor in the refrigerator, where I look next

I think it has escaped into the darkness beyond the windows

or maybe gone to play with the cat, who seems to find it easily

Perhaps in the guest room?

Or the cookie jar?

Eventually I give up the search and begin to write

Then, as dawn is breaking,

sleep slinks shamefaced into the room and taps me on the shoulder

expecting to be welcomed back like a prodigal son

and I do

folding it into my arms and rushing it off to bed

before it changes it’s mind

 

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Night Gathers

Night slips in on soft feet, but not silently. You can hear the jays arguing over the best bedding spots and a few determined frogs still laying claim to their territory before it gets too cold. The insects have largely abandoned the autumn woods but one can hear a gaggle of geese gabbling their way to the ground just beyond the brow of the hill. The yellow leaves of the cherry stand out against the gathering dusk while the brown leaves of the oak blend in. In a week or two there won’t be enough leaves on either to amount to a good fire. Traffic has begun to make that low, slow, going home purr, it’s lights becoming brighter with each passing moment as the grey skies fades quietly into black. A slight mist begins to fall and for an instant all of the trees on the horizon stand out in stark relief before the gloom swallows them utterly. An owl hoots and the jays cease their squabbles abruptly. Somehow it has segued into full dark without my noticing. The mist is making my sweatshirt heavy and turning my once cheerful fire into a smoking heap. I think I shall retreat indoors and allow the autumn night to claim this hill.

On Facebook

Every day

on facebook

I want to post how sad I am

and that I cry

in the night

I would like to talk about the pain that closes off my throat

but instead I write about the weather

It’s sunny today!

Sigh, rain again.

or maybe something about the fog.

Never mentioning the fog in my brain

or the rain of tears

that tempers the raging fire

my maddness has become.

I have become adept

at hiding.

Careful that no one should see

the crazy hanging out of me

like the tatty lace hem of a none too clean slip

peeping from beneath a more respectable garment

too hastily donned.

I cannot tell you where it hurts

or why

or even that it hurts at all

lest I explode, or begin to cry and never stop

dissolving myself into a puddle

So I tell you I am fine

because there is nothing else

for me to say.

Tree Line

Tree Line

Glory Road

Glory Road

G’night

G'night

Night’s Robe

Night Falls

Moonand Milkweed

moon and milkweed

Goodnight Moon

moon

G’night

G'night

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