Tossed and turned and couldn't sleep. |
Got out of bed, walked around
drank warm milk, but never found
the key to keep
my cares at bay.
Got back in bed, tossed some more
tangled covers 'round my feet
'til finally the cares retreat.
Somewhere 'round four
I slipped away.
She was she, but wasn't who she used to be.
We . . . weren't what we were in waking memory
but in this history of dreams
all scenes were changed
her eyes looked wistfully
This house, anciently familiar, achingly conciliatory, waiting
in ephemeral only-dream-existent memory
contained what I'd forgot, left behind
in cobweb crawlspace on a gravel floor
beneath a hinged, linoleum-tiled
Tantalized, I realized, I didn't have the locker key now
And such come dreams - at the verge
By tony parsons
© 2016 tony parsons
(All rights reserved)