Unmoored

It is late at night
when the mind loses its way,
wandering in a space with fewer definitions
to tether it to its post of yes this and no that.

I believe I hear birds outside the window,
but I know they do not sing in the liquid black
of a damp October night.
They are moored to nests and the undersides of wings.

If I were brave, I would leave
and listen to the treble and hiss of sleeping city air,
watch how crisp the streetlamps render pavement
against the distant, softened, blind backdrop of stars,

but fear grips the small body
fearing phantom chirps in the middle of night.
Until then, it is tea and cigarettes at four a.m.
and a kitten who needs feeding like nobody's business.

Comments

[Sassy]

That left me breathless.

[Kelliqua]

I love it when you do this.

[Scott]

Unsolicited advice: :)

I would get rid of the first stanza. It feels like a warm up stanza and doesn't compare to the power of the next three. I like the ending, the mundanity of it.

[topo]

Sometimes it's too much to handle feelings like that without a toe in first. I appreciated the warmup. Beautiful work, thanks.

[angelinjones]

Preparing for surgery can be a big undertaking. As part of your preparation don't forget to get all your questions answered before the surgery.
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Angelinjones
http://www.surgeryoperations.com/specificcategory.asp?ArticleCategory=Acne+Scar+Removal&keyword=Acne+Scar+Removal&s=wbc&c=acnescarremoval" REL="nofollow">Acne Scar Removal News & Discussion

[Eva Robertson]

wow.