awake the fear
scratching at the door
that thin sliver hall
light
the dusted carpet tired

outside the night is restless
an airport beacon turns
and runs its white tongue
upon the clouds

and the hydro transformer sizzles
in the damp mists falling

I can feel my soul
sitting in the chair
watching me as I toss
and I know the mirror
will play another role

the open mouth of the drain
will taunt me with its darling
sigh

another minute descending
and the mile long procession
these dream mourners
know well