Wiping the Sleep From My Eyes

sometimes I awaken
wrists and ankles crossed
as if in bondage to sleep
I untangle myself from dreams
to face a new day

in my shower I sing songs
with words known only to myself

morning has rituals
a choreography of steps
morning has silence
blessed silence gladly found
a sense of seclusion

some would say
I am not a morning person
this is true, I do not spring
from my bed hungry
for news of the world

that small portion
of time
is mine
to savor
like hot buttered toast
I am spiritually fed

Published originally in:


A collection of 23 poems:

Self-published for Western Washington University Staff Art Show, June 1998.
A copy of this chapbook is in Western Washington University Special Collections
in Wilson Library.




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