"Sleeping Beauty". Ann MacBeth

“Sleeping Beauty”.  Ann MacBeth.

All day I do nothing.
My waving arms and pulsing brain
keep me empty.
What uselessness, me.

Before dark, when cool air rushes
from the bay, I water my garden.

Monday I covered chard seeds
in a dark prayer blanket.
What can tiny stone-like
objects do in the sea
of black fertility, but hide
cold, invalid, and scornful.
Maybe they can dream and
forget this earthly destiny.

All night I toss covers,
as if African hills have twisted
and lifted the
valleys between them.
Is anything worth my awakening?

At dawn I see marvelous unfurlings
conquered darkness
while I slept!

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2 Responses to Blanket

  1. smilecalm says:

    with a wonderful
    there seems
    to be value-added
    worthiness 🙂


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