The edge of sleep

I surface to the strobe-like pulse,

waking after nodding off —

Beneath my still-closed lids

I see a dancing form

bobbing away towards the edges of

my closed-eye vision

Maybe

I’m not, in fact, awake . . . 

(This afternoon, while I was napping on a bench,

my hand shielding my eyes

from the bright sunlight,

A dog woke me up

with a slight, deft lick on my face —

Woke me up, then bounded off . . .

I sat a while, a little dazed

by sun and wind

and sitting up quickly,

Then lay down for just a little more nap

before heading home.)

©Wendy Mulhern

May 1, 2013