Waking
In another world.
Interspersed imaginations
Whirl inside my head
Sometimes they weigh me down
Like balloons made of lead.
I think of the alternates
Places I’d rather be
Like travelling up north
Or swimming in the sea.
Interrupted interludes
Disturbed by surgery
And to tell the real truth
Maybe perjury.
One thing or another
Life swings and oscillates
Where’s the ice it would be nice
To own a pair of skates.
As time draws closer
And imminence is a fact
There’s no use pretending
It was all an act.
Swathed in a white gown
White lights and them in masks
Drifting into anaesthesia
Whilst they perform their tasks.
Waking in another world
Attached to instruments
Staring at the ceiling
Constructing lost moments.
In between the trepidation
And when it’s a done deal
Alternates always multiply
And life can seem unreal.
©
David Rudder
2014
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