waiting up
as 10 becomes 2,
soldier seconds passing me
on the review stand,
as my eye lids pass
the weight limit prescribed
by my face muscles,
as dreams rudely run
before me without waiting
for pillow returns,
as laundry slowly
tumbles towards static cling
conclusions mounted
to the inside of
my head, besides calender
magnet shopping lists,
songs wait patiently
in my chest for the perfect
moment to arrive.
talk a little while about the year
1 comment:
I really like the momentum of this poem-- it pushes towards the end. Kind of counter-intuitive for a poem about being very tired...
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