Waking Up There Poem by Christopher Morrison

7: 00 AM and still-
caught up in Elliot
trapped, along the
wood stained floor-
hearing, our voices
scream like ghosts
in the echo of
one strange night.

talk walks like
her, following into
the kitchen scene
where, the mind gets
wired/tired with-
disbelief, in the
makings of one
strange night.

relics become
people for hours-
that stalk among
eyes, that are
giving/receiving
something-

that guides us,
back-
into the
sleeping light.