A Slow Morning

Still in bed, half past seven, I’ve been sleepless since four
Peering through the darkness at my watch
With its pale, glowing face and black, blurry hands
Tunneling beneath the sunrise and taunting me

Soft grey light seeps through the blinds
Slowly lifting the shapes around the room from black to grey while
Mist of silence outside gradually fills with
Distant peals of circling seagulls and
Muffled sounds of early morning traffic

Lying on my right side, body half-twisted
Left arm flopped hopelessly over
The side of the indifferent mattress
Resenting the river of chaotic thoughts that
Repeatedly flooded my sleepilling my frontal lobe with
An aching mass of fog

But all is not lost; Bingo is cuddling
Warmly and safely against my tummy, like
A soft, fuzzy little cinnamon bun
His steady breathing punctuated by
Sniffs, snores, and the body jerks of doggie dreams

Paul Raworth Bennett

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s