Secret Bedside Life

It needs to be said.

There were regular close encounters
in the night. If I turned my head
to the right, there was a window, a desk,
a Coca-Cola mirror, a pastoral neighbor,
sleeping well I presumed.
Everything was (well) right.
If I turned my head to the left,
there was a darkened door. And a
clown poster: God knows.
So it was observance not to say anything,
but to push away what’s left
with the back of my thighs,
and my 8-year-old back which stiffened
in this ritualistic bedtime plight.

28: Real Toads


19 thoughts on “Secret Bedside Life

  1. Brilliant write. I am not quite sure if there is a deep undercurrent that I just can’t quite grasp yet…
    Anna :o]

  2. I think I’ve seen a clown in those Precious Moments figures. My mother used to collect them. Before one goes to sleep all one has are one’s thoughts to distract one and what happens to be in the room.

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