A vice – circular,
cold and hard –
imprisons the soft tick
of time lost —
Calm intent:
words written,
successes assured,
fantasies
flung in the moonlight.
Night sits, achatter,
a plotting child
disabling dreams.
The bedside companion
of tomorrow’s invalid
exposes a breast
and feeds in the dark.
Still belongings
hung by the neck
haunt on hooks,
dressed gowns
of dangling judgement.
Sleep in maladies till dawn plays.
Groundhog trains gather
carriages plucked from mid-air
barrelling fully-loaded
the passenger’s weight
into the disappointment of dawn.
~
Antonia Cundy [1] is an American Literature MPhil student at Cambridge University. She has written on literature for The Economist and The Financial Times, and her poetry has been published in Alliterati Magazine, The NCLA Review, Roam Magazine, amongst others. www.antoniacundy.com [2]