The Odd Hour


I fold up the lace curtains,

Enough to see the streetlights flicker, in the wait for the sun,

An hour hypnotized by an odd mix of stale freshness,

Torn between the two planetary worlds.

 

I sat on my bed, with my feet on the titled marble,

In stark emptiness, with a mind full of thoughts.

It was so quiet, yet the loudest hour of my day.

I looked at the clock- it was still hours before I’d start my day.

 

I tried to put myself to bed, with my lights shut down,

Hoping to R.E.M myself to darkness,

But my head juggled thoughts and images

That I simply didn’t wish to pursue,

There was so much to be pondered over,

There was so much to learn, so much to do,

So much noise- for no other than myself.

 

I shuffled in bed, hoping to find a spot that would kiss me to sleep,

Restless,

I reached out for the jug of water, quenched,

I lay in bed, gazing at the street light that was now competing with the rising sun.

 

I saw the guards wake up to pretend like they had been up all night,

The dogs barked at their ghastly act;

Only to be bribed by a generous bowlof milk.

 

The odd hour had passed,

The fresh air was settling in,

The sun was at the horizon,

It was morning, I could wake up now.

 

 

By

Sonia Agarwal

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