This week’s poem tries to capture my current and slightly ongoing experience of jet lag…
Jet lag
Changing reality for reality,
lonely passenger on hours that pass in the night.
Dull ache of fuzzy-edged sleep,
sand-laced sight.
Pounding heartbeats wake for fight or flight.
Hours too slow, too fast,
internal clockwork creaking to adjust
to faces, places,
out of context dreams,
confusing here with there,
now with then.
Shake out your pillow and your limbs,
step into morning light.
A day or two and we’re fit to fight.
Dhaka, 2014
Took me a week this time, Rilla! Bon courage!