Spending The Morning Alone

watercolor

This morning someone spoke my name.

Sometimes I have trouble waking

I fall back to sleep

deep into dreaming

the weight of the voice shook me up, teeming

with a power

I have never known

I opened my eyes  to realize that

I

was alone

and so it goes

whenever I’m lost in a vortex that is the bed

a voice speaks inside my head

if I’m too heavy

it rolls me into the covers tightly

pushes the pillows over ever so slightly

& shoves the alarm right under my ear

just near enough to deafen

On occasion I’ll come face to face with a face

precariously perched on the wooden chair

from my dresser

eyes intent and steady

watching me breath, I guess

until I am startled into wakefulness

& scan the room

looking for the missing soul

that rippled my sleep

only to see once again

that I am alone

the sole person

in this home.

 

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