Waking them up is a possibility,
those two young boys
stretched wide on bed and blanket on the floor.
Is the silence too full for me any more?
Missing them? That can’t be it.
I had eight hours of a wet cloudy day
with them before we all fell asleep.
Now I’m awake, but immobilized by dreams
that are not sleeping dreams.
They’re life dreams.
Of what ought to be,
could be,
might have been.
Dreaming isn’t changing anything.
My heart races with a need to change something.
So I will let my children sleep
and try to rouse myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment