The telephonic shrill <br />urgents me <br />blearily into dawn. <br />Discomfited I roll <br />myself across <br />a seeming endless <br />counterpane, <br /> <br />set foot <br />on an insecure floor, <br />retrieve the handset <br />and receive <br />a droning earful. <br /> <br />Bliss was it in that dawn <br />to be asleep, <br />to be awakened serves <br />to remind oneself <br />they’re far from heaven.<br /><br />Malcolm Evison<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rude-awakening/
