Friday, 6:37 AM

FRIDAY, 6:37 AM

Okay . . .
here’s how it is.
After reading a
short history on
Robert Lowell’s
later poems
while lying in bed
and drinking a cup
of coffee, I open
the window blinds.

The morning light is
subdued, hesitant,
not really gray as in
so many accounts.
Though there are
no shadows--- 
only dark spaces,
details are slowly
blossoming.

From across a light
slate sky, the rising
sun in the east is
kissing the face of
the western moon, 
making it blush
brightly as it sits
on a tree top---
the tree---not the
moon, just turning
green.

I’m surprised at my
awareness of such
things---due to a
deficit of solid sleep.
My aging brain,
and the manic,
overweight woman
living above, pacing
her room all night,
each step sounding
like a small caliber
pistol firing as the
floor cracks beneath
her weight, puts me
at odds with the
coming day.

But I’ll manage
somehow. Don’t
let it bother you.
Feel concern,
instead, for the
woman upstairs,
whose sense of
the morning
must amount to
something like
a blur.

Reviews

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Wonderfully descriptive of the 'wee' hours as dawn begins to creep into the day, pushing night into the shadows. Indeed evocative poetry and at the same time compassionate as concern is expressed for someone who appears quite disturbed.

[kentuck14]

Wee hours, now there's a Scottish term! Dealing with her constant stomping around . . . it's only grace that helps me be compassionate. But, yes . . . I feel sorry for folks who must suffer this kind of thing.
Thanks for coming bye John.
T

[Eilis]

Ah, a stunning poem, Tom. I'm glad I was here when it first went up and able to read it today. I sense the presence of Robert Lowell in there, though I wouldn't have said so if you hadn't mentioned his name in the poem. It wouldn't have occurred to me. So, it's your voice of course.

I love the whimsy, directness and compassion of your observations. That's an odd combo, yeah, but the vignette of the moon followed by the description of the neighbor is something to behold. The contrast of that peaceful scene to the sleeplessness (of both parties). The mind fog.

I understand that too well. I haven't slept well since I was in my twenties. And, yeah, it's catching up with me now. That 'something like a blur' resonates.

Excellent poetry.

[kentuck14]

E,
Thanks for saying so . . . Lowell was a very interesting poet, however, a man prone to unlikable actions. I wonder how his poetry would have been if he did not suffer from bi-polarism . Yes,
I now see the parallel with him and the woman upstairs . . . though I only call her manic because of what I hear above me. A subconscious thing maybe?

Trouble sleeping is a common problem for seniors they say . . . but it doesn't help to have odd neighbors.
E, again thx for the kind words.
T