The dark does its dirty work.
Day is done for, the sun
Strangled on horizon wire,
Dragging me down with it.
Who is to say I’ll ever
Rise again?
The book of hours
Draws me into its horrors:
Plants and animals
Disguised as people.
I lose me place
In this implausible plot.
All I want is to be taken
By surprise, waking in a world
That believes in Eden,
While music lifts my spirit.
Now in the hospital quiet
Only the tick tock of the clock
In sync with the pendulum
Pulsing in my blood. If only
These beats had a rhythm
I could snap my fingers to.
I mark time slogging
In a slow circle, a second hand
Runner rewound to zero.
Is it later than I think?
No alarms go off, just a doctor
Checking his watch against
My limp lifted wrist.
