Awake now

I get up and begin the first day.

Soon the flowers will come

Proof that something has died.

Time; that lost luxury

Loses its metronomic pace

And slows to match

The quiet unhurried stillness

Of a family still asleep.


But I am awake.

Since sleep that other lost luxury

Will not come.

I will sit and watch the morning break.

This darkness will pass.

The sun will come.

And I will make new plans.


By Fiona Lochhead 2nd Sept 2011