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Poem: Getting to Sleep Early 

I dreamt of returning to work in the laboratory
where we had tested pigments laced with chloride
for its incredible whitening qualities for industrial use
and the work being light raced cars or played cards
a couple of hours a day
My boss was as thin as ever though George
his assistant looking much older and somewhat heavier
had taken to wearing his shirts open at the neck
and kept wanting to shake my hand for some reason
I can’t explain it was a dream
The faces were all very small there inside my head
mysteries and memories a storehouse of imaginary suns
planted in the airless sky the rest of my thoughts
I plant here in the garden
where the light is very good
and it rains almost every morning.

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Speaking of Poetry

  • A poem by William P. Hayes.


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