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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