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Sleepyhead

we are no longer joking
just freezing our extra lungs
there is no sweeping music
no sudden black and white
fading in and out of focus
on all our down-turned faces
it is silent in this room
only the heater up and heating
only one of us is freezing
while the other's violently sleeping
and driving off only to return
several hours later and finding
the other gently losing
there is no happy resolve
no falling action, only rising
the climax has yet to come
it's not yet reached the peak
"hello, sleepyhead"

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Comments


  • ShadedRequiem
    March 21, 2008
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    This is an interesting poem. I like the rythm. Great write. Alyssa