The night rolls down
You watch the stars
Through slats
In the venetian blind
Clean & shiny
Like stars always are
When pollution’s low
And clouds have broken
Somewhere else.
Your bed has clean sheets
You breathe in deeply
To smell the clean sheets
With a sigh you brush
The day from you
And curl into the night.
You dream of horses thundering past you
Their riders smell of
Leather and grease
This is one of those dreams
That has lots of meaning
But you don’t know
What it means.
The riders are yelping
Kicking their heels
On the horses’ flanks
They ride at you
Smiling careless cruelty
And you run.
At this point
You are aware
That all you need to do
To make them vanish
Is wake up
It seems a good idea
But you don’t know
How to do it.
But they ride on past you
Taking the air with them
They leave you trembling
In their roaring wind
And somehow that smell
Of sheepskin
Wraps around you
Not comforting or warm.
There’s a cold weak sun
Looks like blotting paper
In a pale cardboard sky
You pull that smelly wool
In close
Your hands are dirty brown
And wrinkled
Nails are long and cracked
And black.
The air smells of desert wind
On a cold day
Biting sand stings your cheeks
Stinging sweat drips cold in your eyes
Try to wake up now.
Jane Virgo ©
