Wrapped futilely
in the realm of beauty sleep –
dawn rarely dawns on me.
Long after the appointed hour,
the room is thunder-black -
draw back the curtains.
The sky has lost
its breathing space –
choked by the clouds,
voluptuously hanging
in their mourning drapes –
symbolic of a troubled world.
I sigh, and seek
the duvet’s solace –
for me the day
has not yet quite begun.
(26 October 2006)
Wow Malcom, what a great way to capture a moment... Great poem! ~Ray
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Economical and very evocative of a familiar feeling. I wish I could write so well about such moments.