Simones floor

Bitter relief as the dawn breaks
My heart again
As I whisper violent words
to the unkind birds
who have no pity for my mourning
yawning

I buck retreat 
from battle with sleep
and the sheep I counted on repeat
Down the hall that never ceased to creak
When the sandman came my way

Past the tap that leaks and drips a beat
and the glimpse of dreams that merely fleet
My soul must plod on tangled feet
to storm the week in one blurred day

the clock lies with me
but whispers cruel truths in analog proof
that the day is creeping nearer
"Hark the herald" traffic sings
the eastern sky is clearer

and no shephards delight as my bed-side light
burns the pink sunrise in my eyes
while my body must prize itself to rise
and tie a windsor hypnotized
by snake charmers on local radio
offering played-out tunes and chirpy words
and I do not feel at all at home
in the rested world.

Alessandro Guerino