The alarm shouts its sonorous call
obnoxiously announcing today has begun
Slapping hands blindly search out the button
stabbing at it several times until they hit
delaying its call for not long enough.
Searching eyes see nothing
but the hands come to rescue them
finding the day's wearable attire
Some old shirt, think this is jeans
socks and underwear, and ready to go.
Spraying shower mist attempts a revival
but its not enough to revive the deadness-
The warm massaging touch sending a soothing message
that its ok to go back to bed
who needs to be conscious and start the day anyways
Hectic fingers wandering through snarled hair
bobbing and weaving in some exotic dance
trying to make sense of the puzzle they face
The hair however sees it differently
A life or death struggle to maintain its uniqueness
A jacket encases the body
apart from consciousness as the rest of the body
Sturdy shoulders bear a backpack's weight
hanging just as dead as if it belongs
another dead weight among the many sleeping limbs
Blearily, feet trudge out the door
moving a not-yet-conscious mound of flesh
Starting up like a huge machine
slowly gaining momentum as it rolls forward
recklessly under the control of the need to survive.
Lawrence R. Daffner, 2/4/93