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Sleep

Sliding between bed sheets, this body’s height
Lies prone - as if dead, my two selves engaged.
The wake-self will read until drowsy sight
and weary thought recedes - clearing a stage.

A curtain closes when I turn-off lights.
Another opens as a sleep-self wakes
To ardent quests in filmy dream-scape plights,
Processing resolutions and mistakes.

When at daybreak, I'm grounded in the shoals
Of havoc, hidden by a waking wall,
As troubles fade like reins of self-control.
Gone are beings that fast evade recall.

A waking hunch that sleep is death disguised,
Rehearsing for my final close of eyes.
[Sonnet from a collection by S.C.N. Pockley]
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