Another foot or so.
And after you have shoveled
The winds begin to blow.
But night has overwhelmed you and so to sleep you go.
Cradled in your bed, fits of dreams begin
Until the nightmare shakes you
And wide awake you scream.
For all your work has come to naught, nay sorry this I say
The foot of snow that yesterday was cleared with force so fierce
Has come to haunt your every joint
And break you piece by piece.
The trains pass, crowded with humanity,
a woman, crushed against riders,
with hair askew and packages in hand,
grabs hold the car’s gleaming pole,
struggling for space
as a myriad of hands,
unrelenting, begrudge her safety.
Out the window more trains pass,
each bears burdens of day’s woes,
work undone, promises broken,
jobs lost, some won,
though weariness surfaces in all–
the city takes its toll.
The woman exits, with little relief,
her evening a reflection of her day,
as cook and clean fill the hours,
till slumber calls
and sweet caresses of dreams obscure the city’s madding screams.
Down, down, and down
black holes with fetid water
the wine of a city
blinded by cheap lights
too costly to survive
only in dreams.
dreams ghost by
the gold ring beckons
horse heads break
ancient wood, brittle and neglected
your forgotten dreams
when horses ran round and round
and laughter was the only sound.
decapitated and dethroned
you shuffle back and forth to work
down subway steps
towards black earth
and rats that scurry, finding death
anticipating you, along the way
will find the fall
You casually accept the entry
the underworld so grim
there to find your long-lost kin.
When I awoke
The day just lay there
Which dream was real
No hour longer than this day
Under cover though I stay
Tangled mess, my sheets tell the tale
The next awaits
And never arrives.
When darkness overcomes
To hide has just begun.
I’m sure you must know
I’m never this late
I’m usually asleep–
I live in the woods
With nary a peep
From fish or from fowl
Though they usually don’t howl
Like the coyotes do
Or the resident screech owls
That lurk very near
Yet rarely appear.
So I’ll turn off the lights
And tumble to bed
I’ll say my good nights
And sleep pretty tight
Till the mice start to party
At 4 in the dark
And I pull up the covers
And wait for daylight!
It’s very strange
That once or twice
I come upon a thing that’s right
For most of it is very wrong
And takes you on a path that’s long
And far away from everything.
It brings you grief and nasty things.
But when you find a thing that’s right
It makes you sleep quite well at night.
I sleep and sleep and sleep at night
And wake when it is very bright
Perhaps at 10, 11, or noon
Even 1 is none too soon.
I need my beauty rest, of course
There’s nothing worse than having lost
That beauteous glowing, silky skin
That ageless patina that’s akin
To Venus of De Milo fame
Or David, Michelangelo’s creation.
So let me rest till I decide
To rise and take myself outside!
This isn’t heaven
The clock says
I’m slowly fading
Yet here I wait for 2:14.
Now its come
And now its gone
The clock still runs.
To be precise
I cannot last
And now I crash.
No doubt at 3:22
You are dreaming the whole night through
Yet here I sit, you see
The clock displays 3:23
And should I think to wait some more
I’m sure it will say 3:24.
By now my mind is wandering
A half hour I’ve been pondering
So with surprise I find I’m vexed
It only says 3:26!