A poem about the fear of dawn: 

In sleepless dawns when
all I want is to rest at last.
Hearing then, corvids, chirp.

Sounding the advancing
day.

When the night had not yet
given way to dusty dawn.
Retreating from the paling pool.
The darkness remains in the feathers.
The feathers of the anxious daws.

That I, wishing then, for eternal night,
or night enough to sleep.
The birds, mockingly sing high the approach.

The approach of the dawning day.

Hailing with song the rising sun,
to tell me that my sleep was done.
Drawing forth the dawning day,
and spilling in the flood the dawning grey.

And I, shrouded in my sheets, sojourn
am made deaf and blinded.
Deaf and blinded by approaching dawn.

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