The Eclectic Pen - At Night


By: Maggie M.   + 3 more  
Date Submitted: 4/1/2007
Genre: Literature & Fiction » Poetry
Words: 81
Rating:


 

At Night

At night, when we're sleeping,
all the clothes come out
and assume our shapes.
They love this, treasure their freedom.

Sometimes there is traffic
from house to house,
and always
rising sounds.

The tinkle of ice,
a curious music from somewhere,
and the scrape of forks on plates.
Dancing, too, after dinner.

Then, suddenly, the music dies,
all the dishes direct themselves to suds
and fly mute into cupboards
which close themselves.

And the clothes themselves?
Surely you've sensed them
slipping back onto their hangers
reluctantly, yet also

lonely for the light, and for sweat
and the motion of real hips.



The Eclectic Pen » All Stories by Maggie M.

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Comments 1 to 4 of 4
Lynn B. (seraphina) - 4/1/2007 1:34 PM ET
Very good. I really like it.
Claudia R. (BrokenWing) - 4/1/2007 4:40 PM ET
Cute and very imaginative.
Jim H. (Pecos45) - 4/1/2007 11:47 PM ET
This explains why things are sometimes not where I left them. :)
Marta J. (booksnob) - 4/2/2007 9:01 AM ET
So THIS is what happens when I'm sleeping... love it.
Comments 1 to 4 of 4