The Morning-Numbing Days Poem by Leila Samarrai

The morning-numbing days

After tumbling, you feel on the rail
as the sun goes down on you,
tainted and with laundry over the pirate's eye
they think you're a cat,

a suicidal swirl
they don't even take a minute for breakfast
for relapse of one's presence
nevertheless, everything is
day

I remember tall arches on houses lost
I recall fire off the flower of the night
I remind frosts of the beginning of fall -
Bringing echo that was filled with dim

The tempter, to thee I call
Yet not with surpassing echo
crowned
in afterglow at my family kitchen table

Wake up before eternity
wake up in the shade that enshrouds
wake up the bitter memory
ere the tea for sculptured homeless sleep
and the child's dream, with carvings
gone by.