Mournful Awakening by Sy Roth

The mournful night is set adrift on unruffled waves
Accompanied by a whooshing orchestra,
C-Pap cello whistling out-of-tune.

Horns bleat somewhere in inky refrain–
Town criers that bellow news to a somnolent brain.

Jarring sighs from the moon’s, dawn-light
Crawls against dappled Mickey Mouse sheets.

An eastern sunrise cracks icily through windowpanes
Like scritching raccoons urging entrance.

They wake me.

I laze impatiently like a mare bitten by a horsefly,
My quiet bedroom hijacked.

The clinkety-clank of Sir Gawain’s armor heard plaintive,
Wrestles mightily into the room.

Eyes cemented closed by a.m.’s glue and desire
Morning news, crawly insects,
Text the day into a trail of frenzied, scrawled brevities.

Morning light hijacks a truncated slumber.

Hopes begin to blaze with unkept promises.
Lethe’s dreams empty from a fevered brain.

Feet flop like pimpled pancakes ready for turning
To the cold floor.

Morn readies itself to mourn another day.

©2019 Sy Roth


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