... life ..., ... love ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... sleep ...

midnight lives.

last night
you spoke
in your sleep.

a voice like a drunk angel.

apparently you were concerned
with your proximity to the boat.

rambles and mutterings

belabored breath
and a shifting of pillows

and your nighttime rant was over

knowing there was
a conversation that
i could take no part
in, was a very lonely
feeling. indeed, like
death, sleep is some-
thing we only do
alone – even when
we sleep together.

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4 thoughts on “midnight lives.

  1. The pacing–abrupt and stopping and starting in some places, running like a waterfall in the final stanza–serves to emphasize the notion of a dream like state. It’s a nice example of form and theme walking hand-in-hand.

  2. I’ve had that same feeling in the night …that sudden epiphany that ‘death’ does not care that I’m standing guard over mylove …such a helpless feeling.

  3. Another excellent poem. You paint wonderful pictures with your words and everything works so well here. I love the way you end it in the last stanza. Just brilliant.

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