the surety of dreams
alan corkish
when i awoke in the stillness of night
there was nothing
not even the sound of the absent silence
that crept across me like a comforting breeze
not even the whisper of tip-toeing blood in my veins
and so i kept my eyes closed knowing that if i opened them
there would be no stars in an ink blot sky
no moon hanging like a wisp of curved cotton
no window with the bow of a curtain tied back
part obscuring cream-washed walls and
no photo of Dad in his waxed jacket and deerstalker hat
smiling on top of the polished chest of drawers
so, yes, i kept those eyes very tightly shut
squeezing the lids together
and burying my face beneath warm scented hands
until all i could see was the blackness
of welcoming sleep and dreams tumbling in my head
nursing me back to life again
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