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