The Deep Sleep

September 19, 2013
By LadyFreeWill GOLD, Okemos, Michigan
LadyFreeWill GOLD, Okemos, Michigan
13 articles 0 photos 14 comments

Death pulls me from my deepest of dreams.
Death in the form of noise;
In the guise of a phone call.
A subconscious whisper starts me,
And a crawling feeling alerts my ears.
An October dawn outside;
A school day before us.
Death awakens me in a midnight ring
And I know,
Though I hear a partial conversation
My blood runs cold
And it is the silence that speaks.
My mother, her groggy silence tells me,
Even as I know
It is not I who is the deep dreamer.
I say a silent zai-jian for
Grandfather, dearest;
He who, after supper and in good spirits,
I was later told,
Went for a light nap,
But it was Death in the form of a
Deep sleep.

The author's comments:
I am a deep sleeper, but when my grandfather died some months ago, the 5 am phone call woke me instantly. This poem is in regards to the strange feeling I had that morning when I heard the phone ringing. I knew that there was bad news coming.

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