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

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