Conversations (with Sylvia)

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(wake up) not asleep, but reading,

(write) she sits the edge of my bed,

tilts her head, waits. silence. (think it

to know). Sylvia, i am tired.

(the write will you), but how,

(ask the sky). and she stays,

to feel, asking cry (I know). pulls

what i push down (inside rain),

closing windows on day (tumble words),

and in sleep of dark, my name, cloud

whisper, pen gripped unwritten (Sylvia),

fly, write us both home (again).ย 

ย 

ย 

19 thoughts on “Conversations (with Sylvia)

  1. So beautiful. It’s like a melancholy dream. Oh, what it must be like to have Sylvia for a muse.

    I love the last line. “fly, write us both home (again).”

  2. An engaging, deep and puzzling poem written in such fine and convincing style … but – if I may – line 5, er should that read
    “then write will you” ?
    Sorry to be pedantic.

  3. this is marvellous – I don’t meet many poems that make me slow down like this, especially not online/on-screen. Thank you for the ‘like’. Penny

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