The surf of sleep waits just behind my eyes
It hushes, rushes, and recedes
It drags, like shells,
my focus and resolve
It tugs them under, covers them
and smiles
It whispers at me as I move
from task to task, a little dazed
by water’s movement
crossways
to where I try to walk
It murmurs: it’s preparing
a big wave to bring me down with it
Succumb, it soothes, come down
to where the dreams can slosh against your side
and wash you, cuddle you, caress your hair
I’m thinking soon
I may surrender
. . . almost there . . . .
©Wendy Mulhern
June 29, 2011