A lady
in a meditation group,
her long hair plaited like rope,
with a cabin boy smile and
40 year old pirate’s eyes
said ’The one trouble with
meditation is I fall
fast asleep’.
She produced a stale air-bed,
puffed it loudly, added a
sheet, a pillow, polka dot
duvet, plumped her cloudy craft,
yawned, de-robed, boarded up and
pulled away.
