the earth stops shuddering
the prattle of wind and frogs and crickets resumes
a torrid inflated night
fetid with saltwater and palmtrees and fishingnets

an opaque miasma
where all directions dematerialize
and time is measured by counterfeit miles

Sleep couldn't be further away

Ahila Sambamoorthy

If you've any comments on this poem, Ahila Sambamoorthy can be contacted at this address.