Poetry

Sleeping Green

I wrote this because I thought it would be funny to have a serious poem suddenly turn absurd.

Rating: Good

Sleeping Green

A pinhole size ray of sun
Pierces through the clouds
Displaying a heavenly and glorious above
Wearing its white-puffed shrouds
The morning dew settles in
And moistens my hands and face
I blink my eyes in the blinding light
As sweat and dew give chase
The long green reeds of grass
Caress my back and head
My blanket and my pillow almost afloat
Create my earthy bed
The voices of gatherers play through the air
Their footsteps echo on gray
They shield their eyes from the brilliant morning
And take in the new day
And yet the only question that comes to me
On this beautiful dawn
Is what the hell am I doing
Sleeping on the common’s lawn?
A sudden nervous strand of fear
Hoping they don’t see my dread
The people walk by as well as my fear
Oh well, back to bed.

© 2002 Morgan Foster

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