12 January 2011

Reluctant Beginning

Pulled roughly from a dream
you wake to weak morning light
tapping on your eyelids
to the grind and scrape
of salt trucks and snow plows.
dredging for pavement.

Reverting back to childhood
you groan and whine
stubbornly denying the inevitable
crawling deeper
into your artificial womb
of cotton and down.

The mantra begins
~don't open your eyes~
~don't open your eyes~
if you keep your eyes closed
the day won't see you
invisibility will keep you safe.

The light gathers strength
an army of puncturing pinpricks
and as warm feet touch cold floor
reluctant eyes open
to find life staring back
and you are, once again, hostage.


  1. Oh my, this is amazing! I so relate. Diana, I am out of adjectives for your work. The final word here reached out and grabbed me.....hostage. Wow!

  2. Man, been there done that about a jillion times...your detail --like the dredging for pavement, and the army of pinpricks--adds to the tension of that claustrophobic yet safe feeling --an avoidance that you know can't last...nice one, Diana.

  3. I sooo feel this!!! Chill of day wanting to stay hidden away. Brrr the floor....yes reluctance too...can I go back in and curl up in the warmth of the blankets! ~ Amazinggg writing dear!

  4. I truly enjoyed this. Fantastic write!