In the Wee Hours

By | 24 July 2007

Otherwise faithfuls whisper wrong names into the ears of lovers
who keep breathing but do not stir
do not give the impression they heard a word out of place

A child wakes sits bolt upright in bed but still asleep
and screams run for your lives the house is on fire

A woman dreaming of the cliff edge of her marriage
clings with renewed hope to her side of the bed

Insomniacs try to run out of things to count

A grandmother of six plugs herself into her own theme music
runs a hot scented bath introduces herself to herself

as the Queen of Sheba slipping cat like between lives

Drug induced sleepers dream dreams they won't remember
but will go about their day all day
checking their pockets certain they've lost their keys

A father watches the clock tick over curfew tries not to remember
what he got up to at that age calls his daughter's name to
come / heel / stay     as if this     could ever bring her home

And the body becomes just that as the soul struggles to equal
the simple sum of subtracting a dead weight from a live one

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