Thursday, 6 October 2016


Sometimes, I wish I was a bear. 
I would gather nuts and berries now in the last flush of autumn,
hoard my store while the air is crisp and clear
and then withdraw, hunker down, hibernate. 
I would hide in the darkness 
as the nights draw in
and sleep, deep in a drift 
of white feathers and daydreams.

Someone please anaesthetise me 
while these dark days pass over. 
Wake me in the spring,
when I can recall the love of sunshine,
when I am ready to live again a full life,
not this half-life of grief. 

For now, just let me sleep.

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