I am plunged, head on, into the void
until only a wisp of the moon
Wrapped up to the chin in my duvet, I fly,
except for one eye that I left
in a flurry. I lift
the other one towards the black. My ears
host the ethereal winds. Sky beasts
float past and come back.
They boast star-studded skins,
wing their way up and wink.
At the blink of an eye, they’re snapped up
by the moon who’s approaching face on,
now in at the chase, a lunatic to get me;
he is out for a pillow fight.
I hold tight to my bed, take spirals,
cut bends, fluff up clouds,
the cirrus, the cumulus, the stratus.
My neck cricks and aches,
my eye scrunches and blinks,
when I follow
the leaps of the silver-lined lambs
pursued by an opaline moon.
How they huddle and hunch
on bright buttercup hills!
When the noise of the rain fills my ears,
brings me down with my bed in a crunch.
I open my eyes and synchronise them
to the wet.