Ken's Poetry

Insomnia

Juanita Bay

I cannot recall
what noise disturbed my sleep
before dawn – in the afternoon –
but then, we had chased the sun
and stretched the day
to West Coast time,

climbed London’s sky with trembling wings
on hump backed bridges of air,
out of the rain and creepy mist
above the clouds to a scary sky
beyond the birds, even the soaring eagle,
a finger nail from space.

Was it a door or a clattering car
or the birds sharpening knives,
ducks kazooing by the lake
before dawn – in the afternoon –
where time has slipped
and sleep
hung.