I whisper –
“Thanks”.
The spider hears.
My little voice
croaks,
shakily.
It’s the tiny hours
here,
in my room
where sleep comes
dripping
over the edge of the clock….
Coming in and out
of consciousness
like waves of hot flushes,
I struggle to tap
these wee few words.
If my eyes were even
a little open
I would see the
Spectre of Sleep
beckoning me into
the echoey chamber….
just …
o v e r …..
t h e r e…….
Advertisements