Yawn

This poem is the third and final poem in the ‘Involuntary’ poetry cycle. 

 

The night stretches out behind me

long and oval and deep deep blue

until it echoes black.

The siren call of midnight

hours ago

and minutes away,

I am not tired

though my eyes protest

as my aching feet scream for bed

for more comfortable shoes

next time, next time.

My mouth opens wide,

a dark train tunnel

sending me home,

the ridges of the roof

train station tiles,

my voice an empty platform.

The sweet taste of sunrise

sings in my throat,

my lips stretched so wide

I birth the dawn

from the fullness

of the night before.

 

© Hayley New 2016

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