As long as she is awake, she is
as light as a feather or, maybe an amalgam
of feathers, the wing of a bird or,
perhaps, the whole bird itself, as she flies
effortlessly around the living room, supported
by her mother’s arms. As she begins
to enter the realm of sleep, she becomes
heavier and heavier until, when she finally closes
her eyes, she is, as her mother pronounces -
nothing but a dead weight. And yet, it was
only death’s brother who had touched her. Her face
is like that of the living Buddha. She is
a sentient being at rest. No-one will ever
know the dreams that she leaves behind her as she,
with her eyes wide open, re-enters ours.
Gordon Meade is a Scottish poet based in Fife. He divides his time between his own work and developing Creative Writing workshops for vulnerable people in a variety of settings. His most recent collection, The Year of the Crab, was published in 2017 by Cultured Llama Publishing.