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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Biographical · #1017252
Waking up to a dream, then waking up only to find it's still a dream.
And I can't wake up


yet
waking
enter a
dreamlike
state
that calms
me with the
flow of
mist
and I
am walking,
waiting
for
a sense
of presence
as cool
curls
'round my
ankles, seeps
into
my
bones, and
I
wake

         screaming!

                             I shiver
with a fear of never waking and wonder
whether death will be like fog: the

lack of sound,

of sight.

Worn

out

I

fall asleep again, with pleasant thoughts
of sun-drenched days caressing me.


Come morning,
Mother marvels at
how silent I have slept. Toss-
ing, turning, yes, but never waking
through the night.


Kåre Enga

catalogue number: [162.415]
30 september 2005


Note: from a prompt:
FORUM
Poets' Practice Pad  (18+)
Write poetry from prompts just for the fun of it; formal or free verse, you pick.
#1013410 by Joy

I guess you could call this a nightmare. I remember as I child dreaming I was awake, realizing I wasn't, terrified that I couldn't, wouldn't ever wake up. One incident may have been linked to a gas leak. Haven't had one of these in awhile. Wonder whether my mother remembers? She's 83 now, mind like a trap. *Smile*.
© Copyright 2005 Kåre Enga — taking a break. (enga at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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