Foreboding Dawn

Croons;

Melodic talons tapping my skull,

Piercing through the hush.

Reverberating. Dull.

Scratching at the breadth between us.

Ripping a placid night from the walls.

I stir.

That callous cricket never mutes!

A cautious conscious

Casts out its liberal roots,

Tearing cracks into my heavy

Head with uninterpretable calls.

Awake.

An old ghost flickers in the dawn.

I recognise its bones:

Yellow. Worn.

Familiar smiles etch its jaw.

I blink and your silhouette is gone.

Time -

They say it smooths any bruise!

It claws at mine, leaves tracks,

Primal clues.

It draws me out of desperate sleep

For a minute of foreboding dawn.

Breathe.

I gasp until my lungs pull tight

With the scent of your skin,

Albeit despite

Your absence. My thoughts dance with that soul

‘Cross the room - a grim illusionist.

Fall;

Spiral forth toward another thought.

Walk a fine borderline -

Faded and tought

As my pulse hammers out the wail of
Your time, strapped comfortably to my wrist.