We’re sleeping

some of us are ten to a bed

some of us are alone

waiting for a loved one to come in

from another room




some of us are old

some of us are ancient

some are just children

too young to have gone

to the Cimmerian crib

but the sandman practices

equal opportunities




there are those with fresh flowers

those with withering weeds

those who are beloved by all

those who are forgotten by most

but all are laid out in wooden pyjamas




when you walk across upturned soil

by the nightcaps of stone

with their epitaphs for dreams

when you read our names out

do so with respect and


hush now


we’re sleeping

the long dark sleep






Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s