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Pause For Poetry:
Michael Hawkes /63

Woke

A poem by Michael Hawkes

November 27,  2023

Awakened,

Semi-conscious

In a comfy realm

Of eiderdown and underwear.

 

I raise my drowsy head

Above the duvet clouds

To survey the sunlit morning

Bursting rudely, irrepressibly

Into every corner of my space.

 

But am I ready

With the dripping faucet

To face another day

In contemplation of my anguish,

Thick and addled, permeating,

Amorphous, hard to place?

 

Shall I pull

The bed clothes up,

To burrow in

As though forgetting

And try to hide

My permanent disgrace?

 

My shame for having trod

The earth so roughly,

For having left a heavy trace.

 

Or surrender

To the power of sunshine,

Venture out and fall

Contagiously repentant

Into its mad embrace?

 

25/09/22 – Hawkes


Feature image: Ketut Subiyanto, PexelsBouton S'inscrire à l'infolettre – WestmountMag.ca

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Michael Hawkes - WestmountMag.ca

Michael Hawkes is a survivor of all the world’s wars. He learned (and loved to rhyme) by torturing the hymns he had to sing at school. A retired West Coast fisherman living in Montreal since 2013, he is an unschooled Grandpa Moses writing an average of five poems every week.


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