Night

This week’s poem grasping for the strange feeling of waking up in dark night after traveling and having no idea where you are.

SONY DSC

Night

Opening eyelids marks no change,
and I can’t remember
which way to the bathroom.
Total blackness. How did I get here,
where is the door?
Ask silence, am I alone here?
In blankness search for trails to follow
back to where I am.
To who I am.
And I can’t remember my name.

Dhaka 2015

One thought on “Night

  1. Well, you were not in Zimbabwe,I suppose. I have tried that experience a number of times there, trying to follow the walls to get a clue from furnitures or doors. Where were you ,anyway? I like your poem.

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