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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Contest Entry · #2181436
A poem about sleep patterns.
The day
quickly sped away
like a too-quick razor
on a stubbly kneecap.
The arm of the couch felt hard
under my head, as I slept.
The daylight
brightened up the floor
in a muffled mesh pattern
as the faint wisp of a curtain
filtered its angry embrace.

But now shadows fill the streets
and here I am
awake as anything...
And I think about the nature of
circadian rhythms
as I point out shapes in the
cracks of the ceiling.
A seahorse, a spatula, a broom...
I see a cloud shape
clear as anything.
Magnificent in all its
Weird, huh?

24 lines
Contests Entered
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2181436