by Oonah V Joslin
cra-craa craagh!
cra-craa craagh!
Birds are moulting now.
No more matin minstrels.
The year’s measure matures.
Pillow soaked in sweat,
I lie wakeful
listening to crows and gutter cats
iaouw-raouw yaah!
ggghhhr-hisss iaouw!
Aye, I am restless too,
turn, toss, fret, sweat trickles,
twists sideways round my neck.
My hair’s cat’s-sookin’s,
licks o’ middle age.
Tired
so tired,
so tired yet
I may as well get
up, creep down, creep
quietly, not to disturb
your sleep.
The kitchen greets me with
a welcome chill.
I boil the kettle, make tea with closed eyes.
The craagh and iaouw have gone.
to do wha
to do wha
to do wha
to dooo
Don’t ask me, collared dove.
I might ask you.
Oonah V Joslin is Managing Editor of http://www.everydaypoets.com Her Flash Novella, A Genie in a Jam is online here. You can find links to her work in ‘The Vaults’ at Parallel Oonahverse.
The Pygmy Giant 
#1 by Jennifer walmsley on July 20, 2010 - 11:51 am
Excellent. Loved the natural sounds that match this poet’s mood.
A poem I can identify with.
#2 by Jennifer Stakes on July 20, 2010 - 3:25 pm
Sensuous. I can feel and hear every line.
#3 by Cath Barton on July 20, 2010 - 5:48 pm
You do realise that collared dove’s toe hurts, Betty, don’t you? I empathised with this one too!