Five A.M.

my own death
vineyards of moons,
a shallow depth
of the sea,

Venus sinks,
I drowned and cried
in my sleep,

died like the ocean,
born in split
like the magenta
of mother’s womb;

a vortex of nothing
fair and bony
for the ghost
of mine does not grieve

these amputations of mind;
absence of the moon’s bare-

I see the lizard limbs
of the moonrise

as I weep
like the island.

© 2020 All Rights Reserved.

Written for the Free Verse Revolution prompt: lamplight terrors.

As well posted for the dVerse open link night.

Appeared in Top Three Sunday Best on FVR.

47 responses to “Five A.M.”

    • Aww, thank you Sarah. I am glad you think that. I honestly was a bit doubtful with this poem! But, I’m so glad that it’s being received well. I thank you for your kindness and thoughts. ❤


  1. Your images are vividly surreal, and the 3rd stanza is exquisitely poetic, and throwing my thoughs into an ocean of turmoil
    “died like the ocean,
    born in split
    like the magenta
    of mother’s womb;”

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I so relate to this poem, Lucy, as someone who wakes up several times a night, usually at three and five a.m. The imagery is beautiful and twilit, with the ‘vineyards of moons’, the ‘shallow depth of the sea’ and the ‘magenta of mother’s womb’. I particularly love the idea of the ocean being ‘born in split minds’ and the ‘lizard limbs of the moonrise’, the effect of the moon on humans and reptiles, perhaps a reference to our reptilian brain.

    Liked by 1 person

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