Sleepless In Portsmouth Poem by David Harris

Two o’clock in the morning,
four hours before I go to work
and I cannot sleep.
My mind is filled with images
that should not really be there.
We are standing in an airport my wife and I
in a different country
looking for faces I hope I might recognise.
There are people all around us,
but those we are looking for
they are not there.
My wife is getting panicky.
We are strangers in a strange land.
For a month, I have had no contact
with those whom we are to meet.
I keep thinking of my friends
and wondering
have they forgotten me?
It is just a dream
I hope that will not turn into reality.
Still I am not tired
no matter what I do.
I close my eyes again,
but still no sleep comes.
Even if I can fall asleep,
the desertion dream comes again.
Nothing wants to make it go away.
Here I sit cigarette in one hand
and a cup of coffee in the other,
sleepless in Portsmouth.
Anxious.
Hoping what I am dreaming
isn’t going to come true.
Excitement some might call it,
but dread is my word for it.
The loss of communication
points to its possibility.
Is what I am dreaming a warning
of my future reality?
My life seems in tatters
and there is nothing I can do.
I am left in a limbo
with so much unsaid
and my torment goes on and on.
While all the time I am saying to myself,
come on David get back to bed.
How can I?
When all I see is nothing
at the other end waiting for me.
I am now beginning to wonder
if this was all a mistake
and what will be waiting for us
when we touch down
after nine and a half hours in the air.
All I can do is pray is someone
will say something to ease the anxiety I am feeling.
In the mean time, I will remain
sleepless in Portsmouth.

15 May 2009