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George Lewis Avery

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moving
on cats feet
[fog] creeps
across the page
where walks my pen
[heavy]
like rainsoaked garment
draped over my mind
obscuring the skylight
of mine eyes
till they [sore weary]
beckon to retire
and draw the shade
my pen moves
but the message
scrawled
is obscured
in the swirling
maelstrom
of sleep deprived
dementia
and i
wide eyed
never blinking
ever thinking
grope my way till i
overtake the crossing
but in my haste i
overshoot the railing
and plunge into the brink
where i flounder
like a derelict
in a sea of
neverending fog
whose oar
[my pen]
parts nothing
*sigh*

.oeg ©