Bed Check



not stars or waves or blades of grass
no sirens calling movement towards rocks
deadly, seen
yet still the irresistible compulsion
to push forward

buildings tumble
whole cities burn
lives fall like confetti at a funeral
the misplaced
and inappropriate scattering

we scuttle
beetles to dung
heaped as we are with all
the inescapable issues
phobias and triggers, the unhinging

chased always by inevitable gathering
the gluing back together
of the crossword puzzle scraps
down and across
to find an answer that finally fits

let me sleep
away the questions
deeply sleep with repeated REM
no hourly clock checks
and wake to sea at last serene

November 2014
Julie Ayers


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