Lying in the thin darkness
fan set to breeze,
I play patience with Morpheus
and lose more times than I win,
each tap and hidden knock
keeps me rooted in this world
ignoring his futile entreaties.
Shapes shift poked stubbornly
by my idle imagination
robbers, wild animals and ghouls
in a monochrome procession
silently creep, fading in and out
a hideous beauty pageant
sponsored by yours truly.
The Perseids aren’t due yet
the cosmic free firework show
is still an agonizing week away
so, my insomnia is rooted, charmed
by the fan’s rhythmic crescendo
breaking as the chisk of surf on sand,
counting out seconds, minutes, hours
*
© Graham R Sherwood 08/22
grahamrichardsherwood.co.uk 