Switch

Switch

It's sometimes hard to get up,  when you've nothing in the diary and it's cold outside.

In that time of morning
Before the body stirs from its warm nest
Sheets wrapped tight over neck and shoulders,
Before the switch from rest into action
It is still possible to sink
Through daydreams back into slumber.
While the taste of morning coffee lingers,
Sleep sits in each eye's corner,
Hair a mass of messy tangles,
Limbs curled foetal close
Resisting the inevitable stretch
The sudden thrusting back of the duvet,
The start of another day.


© Copyright 2019. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

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