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I’m tired.
Two hours last night.
Three, the night before.
I want to
green flashes
puddles of gold
blue sky contrast
close my eyes.
The gentle sway
is soothing.
The gray shades
of my eyes
are heavy
as if someone
is pulling,
dragging
them down.
Flicker of sunlight.
Spring back up.
Oh, just a few moments
I’m so tired.
Sit up - deep breath.
The bright pains
skewer the tender
part behind my eyes,
forcing me to squint
and frown
(more wrinkles) .
If I succumb,
they’ll show
even more
Neck is waving,
chin sinks into throat.
Tongue fixed to roof
of mouth.
Relaxed.
Still
except for the sway
- gentle -
then slight bumps.
A forward push and
I’m saved.
- nearly folded.
How embarrassing!
Sit up - deep breath.
Matchsticks - I need
matchsticks!
(How come everyone
uses lighters these days?)
Drooping
leaning
closing
pulling to
“PERTH STATION! '
Frances Macaulay Forde
Read poems about / on: spring, green, night, sky
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