Sleepwalking

[couchgrouch]

SleepwalkingI don't know how it happens, or what my footsteps meanI wander our country cabin, in a waking dreamcrow black shadow creeping, 'cross the bedroom floorI watch my love there sleeping, as I darken the doorI'm sleepwalkingin the dead of nightsleepwalking in the dead of nightmy hound in the hallway, lifts a floppy eareven sleeping he always, knows when someone's nearmy bones are pained and weary, and rest would relieve their achebut something cold and eerie, stirred my soul awakeI'm sleepwalkingin the dead of nightmoving place to placewith the silent graceof soft moonlightif people look my waythey never say a wordthat's because whispers saynever disturbone who's sleepwalkingmy love fights to awaken, from familiar nightmaresshe looks pale and shaken, as her eyes hold haunted staresshe dresses while sleeping, and walks that willow path againstops at my stone and starts weeping, when she finds she's beensleepwalkingin the dead of nightmoving place to placewith the silent graceof soft moonlightif people look my waythey never say a wordthat's because whispers saynever disturbone who's sleepwalking(c)2005 Robert George