“After midnight, I take my breaths”

After midnight, I take my breaths
By

After midnight, I take my breaths
                            deeper. I was a body by the river,
dirt and glitter spread over palms, hunched
in on myself and tired. 
             I imagine we’re both tired.                       Birds
are twittering, but         it is after midnight,
                                       so I probably imagine this too.

In an instant of living, I’d take my breaths deeper.
             It’s only raw if it’s unwanted     – and I figure,
neither of us want it. But it is not imagined:
             you’re alive.     After midnight, it is time to take
that hand from the Wear’s cold dark,
                                        and let the weary rest.

An Alarm
By

It rang feebly,
Almost inaudibly.
Murmuring meekly, mutely, frantically.

Did not realise then in a state of stupor,
So deeply it was hidden. Covered and coated,
In dreams it was painted.
The night past’s wine
Dismissed the irksome voice.

It grew.
Clamorous and vociferous.
It knew.
Youthful and ingenuous.
A choice.
Callow and credulous.

It was decided,
the voice would be disregarded.
The dream was far too precious
Reality was being far too vicious.

But you see,
That’s the thing about reality,
it rings and rings and rings in your head
till you are forced to acknowledge its adversities.
And so I was. Forced.
To rouse.
Acknowledge the upcoming day,
Accept my sardonic fate
And deal with the consequences of being late.

Image: Robert Couse-Baker via Flickr and Creative Commons

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