My sleep is like

on a worn string

slipping down the line from one
hour to the next

of jewelled slumber but in between
a frayed cord of anxious waking,

hot turning, grasping for a lifeline that
my sweaty touch disintegrates, dreams

clattering to the floor
and here I am again, awake


4 thoughts on “My sleep is like

  1. Hi Ellen

    Lovely poem—I think it really captures the frustration of sleeplessness. I also love the image of the dreams clattering to the floor and waking the poet.


  2. Hi Ellen

    This is lovely as always and I can close my eyes and visually imagine your words. For me, it’s part of the joy of reading well written work. You make me see as well as feel.

    I hope you are well ……… Love, Marty


    1. Marty, I’m well, and thanks as always for your kind … and visual … poetry participation. Love, Ellen


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