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4 AM Tick
by Alison McKenzieI fall asleep,
Chin resting on hands,
Elbows resting on desk,
Neck’s whine drowned
By slipping into the deep.
It’s been one of those
Unexplainable, bolt-upright nights,
Waking in the dead of it,
That universal hush
When no one stirs,
No one is logged in,
And even the pedophiles
Lie in slumber.
Adrenaline vs. Delta waves,
I drift between dimensions,
Having no real preference
For the sounds tucked
Just between the layers,
Feeling the lure of creation’s potential
Just out of conscious reach.
I waver toward enter,
Barely in time.
11/23/2010 Posted on 11/23/2010
Copyright © 2024 Alison McKenzie
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Ken Harnisch on 11/23/10 at 01:47 PM Ah, Alison, I remember that silence and the 4 o'clock hour, awaiting the muse that stirred me from sleep and in the ensuing 90 minutes deserted me until I was awakened by the cantaloupe light of the rising sun. You've said it more succinctly and beautifully here than I ever could or did. |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 11/23/10 at 04:11 PM I think I know that tick, too. Beautiful work. |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 11/23/10 at 07:47 PM This is a wonderful write Alison. I really enjoyed it. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 11/24/10 at 07:26 PM I so relate and also love this line - "Feeling the lure of creation’s potential". By the way, you seem to handle this potential just fine. Cold here - is the Gorge whipping the semi-s around yet? |
| Posted by Anastasia Selby on 12/15/10 at 05:53 AM I love the phrase "unexplainable bolt upright night." Very enjoyable and I can definitely relate to it. Well done. |
| Posted by Kevin Fehlen on 10/29/11 at 05:50 AM Only too true. |
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