Home » Poems » Paul Willason » One Morning When I Wake

One Morning When I Wake

I emerge, worn out
from the long hours
that stretched sleepless across
much of the night. The morning
reveals my work, a headspace 
of holes dug by the burrowing 
machines of thought, 
a few scattered bones
and a brain full of junk.

I spend the day repairing 
my inner plot, raking over
the holes, reburying the bones
and using the junk to make
a scarecrow I can hang
above my bed. By evening
I'm done.

One morning, when I finally 
get a good night's sleep without
being holed by the burrowing 
machines of thought
ploughing through my head, 
I'll probably wake to find 
the buried bones have taken
root and the scarecrow 
snuggled up beside me
in my bed.

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Suzanne Delaney

Date: 3/22/2023 4:21:00 PM

Thoughts are valuable. When I lay awake at night not sleeping I sort out things that I would probably miss during the buzz of the day. Good reading you. SuZ

Paul Willason
Date: 3/24/2023 5:00:00 AM

Its good when a poem or two intrude into that space. No good for sleep but it makes the deprivation worthwhile. Again, thanks Suzanne for taking the time to read and comment...appreciated.

Daniel Turner

Date: 3/13/2023 8:24:00 AM

love your sense of humor, Paul. I hope you get some rest my friend:)

Paul Willason
Date: 3/13/2023 4:55:00 PM

Had to kick the scarecrow out of my bed this morning...something worked.