Sleepwalker

 

Although she tried hard not to,

She always made him feel

Like a celibate monk

Looking forward to a sabbatical,

Fingertips arcing through

Time zones and time,

It made him think,

What with Christchurch

And Sendai, the meltdowns

At Fukushima,

Were the Mayans on to something,

Perhaps everyone should make

Like Odysseus,

Grab a bottle of booze

A book of Bukowski

And go looking for their

Sleepwalker,

No matter how noble

Your plans and your dreams,

In a blink of an eye

You can be swept out to sea.

 

Stephen Nesbitt ©

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