August 12, 2019


Eleventh Hour


Eleventh Hour

Wrapped in darkness we can
no longer deceive ourselves.
Our smiling masks float away.
We snake here, there
from one side to another.
How many times do we rip off
blankets only to claw more on?

Listening to zzzzzz of traffic,
mumble of freight trains, fog horns.
Listening to wheezing,
feeling muscles throb.
How can we find comfort?

Say same word over and over
again again falling falling to sleep.
I will stop measuring what was lost.
I will become brave.

Let slumber come covering me.
Let my mouth droop, fingers tingle.
Wishing something cool ... soft ... sweet.
Now I will curl like a fetus
gathering into myself
hoping to awake new born.

Article © Joan McNerney. All rights reserved.
Published on 2018-01-01
Image(s) are public domain.

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In the same series:

Eleventh Hour

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How Trouble Grows
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