It was the end of the evening.
The ritual of preparation began anew.
He was in pursuit of that elusive animal: sleep.
He had glimpsed it yesterday,
But the more he had sought it,
The more it had eluded him.
Tonight, his train of thought blazed into the black.
His brain buzzed like a band saw.
Ideas scurried through his mind like rats.
Time trickled through the hour-glass.
Sighing seconds tottered away.
A sheen of silence shimmered
As the clocks crisply chimed each hour.
At five, he remade his rumpled bed.
Then a tentative chirp sounded -
The night's ordeal was almost over.
Life's frame racked his tensioned body.
His eyes were pitch pools on fresh parchment.
Vivid colours clawed his mind,
As the passing of "immortal" night
Brought another "eternal" day.
James E Cragg
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