Sleepwalker

Sleepwalker

I dream of an alchemist and create a formula
that is dark and bold, a magical molasses,
that is a remedy for my own vices.
I wake up in the kitchen with an authority figure
pulling me toward the bedroom
and someone whispers it is just a dream,
but I am young and too aware
of the other side of myself, and I hover
between here and there, walking
a fine line, where I can not distinguish sleep,
and can not be still.
It follows me to adulthood, only now, I sleep
and awaken normally on my own,
but I can not be still, even now roaming
door to door in this house that is too warm,
so that I must find the outdoors or whistle
for my dogs and walk.
The air is a reassurance, brisk and alert,
thick with frost, but always, evenly distributed.
The earth is a crunch of bones breaking
and renewing, but always there, and solid.
Sleepwalker, time tilts and turns
and the magic of our formula thins to water.
There are no remedies and no vices
that have not proved human.
There is only the gift of darkness and light,
that I am still too young, and too aware
to factor with discrimination from the pale shadows.
I stumble destiny in a blind feel.
I am a vague dreamer and can not be still.

Reviews

[W.k.kortas]

I am finding, in my own mind at least, bits of Dickinson and James Dickey and perhaps a wee bit of Masters in this piece. I love it, and I'm finding it very hard to put into words exactly why--but I do love it.

[Poeticpiers]

Stillness only comes with death .Dream on and walk carefully asleep or awake lest you reach stillness too quickly

[Ed Hart]

For a country girl, you sure wear big shoes....

[Jibey]

I think we are all sleepwalkers... loved the powerful image of the bones crunching underfoot as we stumble on...