Friday, January 30, 2009

Sleep Disturbed

Not teething
as mother thinks, but
dreams of earlier lives,
lessons from the past.


You try to understand
but it all slips like sand
through your chubby fingers.


You talk and play in nursery,
wonder what it means,
what happened to all that stuff you knew?

an earlier version of this poem was published in Quantum Leap magazine

Sleepless for Weekend Wordsmith

Sleepless also over at Crafty Green Poet

5 secret admirers:

egretsnest said...

Wow! That's really wonderful. Speaks to the mother in me.

noahthegreat said...

Sometimes I wonder, if I've lived before.

Paul said...

That's a perfectly made poem around an intriguing idea.

gardenpath said...

It does make you wonder. Nice.

Anonymous said...

A pretty good poem. Keep working !