A flash of red across my eyelids-
Dancing stars when I press my palms down,
And silence, rushing past my ears,
Cut by the wind and the neighbours outside.
Then the church bells toll,
But I forget to count the chimes.
Is it four o’clock? Or five?
Under this small patch of sunlight,
I curl up as much as I can,
Thinking: it must be so nice,
In these moments, to be a dog or a cat.
Nothing to do but wait for dinner,
Or stalk some leaves outside,
Or just sunbathe for hours.
Shall I fall asleep,
Try to dream of chasing rabbits and digging holes?