And Still He Lay Sleeping

Nobody heard it, the inexorable crawl
Gravel crunching under tyres creeping,
slowly gathering speed,
And inside he lay sleeping

Close-by they were seen gathering
under trees and makeshift awnings
It could have been the rain
driving them from the usual place
That morning

Yet standing close to them
You would see some eyes darting,
some smarting, and weeping
As, drowned out, it slipped from the edge
And still he lay sleeping



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Laurie Wilson

Indexing my inner space explorations. Borrowing from others who’ve done the same.