Please Come

Please come,
said something.

This voice was soft
and unfamiliar yet
had managed to get 
so close to my sleeping ear
that I could feel it stir the air
as it spoke.

Please come,
it said again, there is
urgent need here, there is
a great famine, a profound 
drought, a bitter war,
a rage covering us all here.

Please come, it said again,
and I rolled over to change
which ear was exposed as
I try keep some of my hearing
to myself and not let just anyone
in that way, but it got into
the pillow itself and denied me
sleep, clearly saying again 
and again:

please come, we
are vanishing, we are being
snuffed out the way breath
takes a candle flame
and just as the smoke
from that small extinguishing
lingers for a short time and
ribbons back and forth until
it’s gone, this whispering
can only reach you for a moment
until it too wisps away. Please
come, please, 

until I could take no more
and talked back to it
and drowned it 
and snuffed it
and blew on it until
it cooled into silence
and left me in darkness
to sleep and 
keep to myself — 

but I found
I could not.

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About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

One response to “Please Come

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