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Poem


A day escaped, 
released from the sticky womb of night
held firm in the arms of midwife morning,
listen to its infant cries 
the wails of a newborn child unfed 
demanding of your bed and sleepy scant attention,
it matters not that you turn your back and try to block your ears
to tears of open-window traffic rage 
and screaming gulls that dance on bins with shoes of lead
invade your head and work themselves within 
to violate your peace with a surgeons skill,
phone alarm vibrating shrill and shaking 
leaking decibels that penetrate each waking fibre of your skin,
you know you must begin, attend that fractious babe
fill its hungry mouth to stop the bawling
lured as ever by the bathroom light 
Thursday screams, and you her faithful moth come crawling

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