~John Steinbeck
Poet’s Insomnia
by Julian Matthews
It is late and you are awake, stricken by Poet’s Insomnia
You count sheep — and stop at one
You wonder how this lone sheep got here
The scene is a green, verdant field,
framed by white picket fences, rolling hills, shining sun
Scratch that—
Why is this field so green and verdant?
Make it windswept, dirty-olive long-grass, patches of burnt umber
Make the fence mottled, termite-infested, rotting like a grounded pirate’s ship
For that matter, why do hills always have to roll?
Make them weathered, fossil-studded, miocene
Forget the sun...
read the rest here
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Live Your Poem has the Poetry Friday round-up. Thanks, Irene!
3 comments:
O, Poet's Insomnia, I know you too well! I am addicted to the "notes" feature on my iphone. Hardly a night goes by that I'm not awake at some point tapping lines in...Thanks, Tabatha. xo
Tabatha, once in a while I get insomnia like last night when I had to stay up late to let my poem have a voice. You chose a very good poem for the reader to ponder.
I invariably wake up and look for that sheep - the one that I was counting on, and now I know where that sheep can take me! : )
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