In her wake

Bed-head stretches out deliciously
nibbling nanoseconds
her body knows now to rouse
before the need to rise
a breaking of the fast
light and sky to digest
routines to peruse
drinking in the imminence
and just as 'time's up' approaches
she beats down the ultimate count
lest the alarm jangles nerves
sets unbrushed teeth on edge
- daily she slips anchorage this way
setting sail for consciousness
as on a slow-boat to China

One for the Tale Weaver and the prompt: Time’s Up – the choice is poetry or prose – and time enough to pop it in to the Poetry Pantry

25 thoughts on “In her wake

  1. I thought your response was so very profound Laura. The final three lines could very well apply to us all as we age. Thanks for sharing with the tale weaver.

          1. me too. Two mugs of tea, drunk in slow sips, and perhaps I can tackle this new day.
            A slow boat to China seems a gracious setting for Good Morning.

            (Did you ever see an old Andy Capp joke – there has to be a better way of starting the day than getting up in the morning!)

  2. I really enjoyed this image of awakening. “Time’s up” indeed – right before one arises. I like the idea of setting sail. We really do do this each morning..never really knowing what shores we will visit each day!

  3. Oh my, this is so well done — the wakefulness, both literal and metaphorical, arrives in such a stream and every step that is taken counts in its own element. I really liked your closing: the image and the resonant thought is well caricatured in every line of this verse.

  4. “a breaking of the fast light and sky to digest routines”… woww! ❤ This is incredibly gorgeous, Laura. You capture the image of awakening and embracing new dawn so well! 😊

  5. I like the description of those delicious moments when you are awake but don’t quite have to be up just yet.

  6. This is wonderful! I especially love her slipping anchorage, and setting sail for consciousness as on a slow boat to China. So lovely.

  7. That urge to stay in bed I am afraid will increase as the years click by. I think I am the laziest now than I have ever been. My bed is a really a very good friend! I loved your poem.

    1. I know exactly what Old Egg means about the bed being one’s best friend. It wasn’t always that way, but it’s becoming that way!

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