Sleepless

Sleep lurks in my peripheral vision
a charlatan dressed in fine clothes
walking tall 
and handing out promises
like wooden nickels;
my bed is empty
and my dreams have spilled
into the Little Dipper
hung where I can see it nightly
but cannot reach it

The moon slides behind the clouds
with all its secrets in tow,
and it rains
in heavy whispered songs
strumming through the leaves
of the trees outside my window
where street lights shimmer
in the pools left on the ground

Behind my eyelids
I wait
to be taken to that place
where Love is painted wordlessly
in a soft shade of steel blue
and rests against my back
breathless,
touching deeper than skin
without touching at all.

Some day 
my dreams will take me
on the wings of Pegasus, 
where the sun shines above the clouds,
and I will cash in all my wooden nickels
to lay awake 
in the arms of Love.



Janet Reid
july 2008





Awarded by Poetic Constellations