Caught Napping

This is a poem about slipping into sleep.  I thought of it as I lay awake last night.

                                                             Caught Napping


                                                    My bed is a slow motion trampoline,
                                                    alternately sinking me to sleep
                                                    and then bouncing me back
                                                    toward wakefulness.

                                                   Then it’s quicksand on which I lie
                                                   flat but still go under, consciousness
                                                   a vine I can’t quite cling to.

                                                   Later I wake, my mind caked
                                                   in drowsy mud- yet at its center,
                                                   a memory of flight.