Turn Away
©December 12th, 2017
By Vijaya Sundaram
Soughing music from the highway rises and falls.
Sky-muffled and tree-flanked, the cars flow gently down.
Lassitude, and warm bed, and prone dog at your feet,
Make a dome of silence ringed by soft murmuring.
Comfort is simple – there’s no need for silken sheets,
No need for velvet couches, heavy tapestries,
No need for silver coffee pots, or samovars.
Comfort is in the lying down in your own bed
Held fast in pillowed dreams which come to you alone.
And when you turn your head and see a slant of sun
Something like enlightenment fills your muted mind.
And, turning your head away, you fall back asleep.
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