by Emma Decent 2010

We sleep like two hares

wrapped in each other’s paws,

floating magically

near the surface of water 

of the Burnley Canal,

while golden fish

swim around us, goggle-eyed!

 

You like to sleep face down

so you flop upon me,

my warm fur belly your bed.

 

I like to lie on my back

so you are my covers,

our strong hare arms relaxed

around each other in sleep.

 

We wear crowns at bedtime, of course.

Of course, they fall off in the night,

No matter.

 

When the mill closes

the workers dream of us, 

a pleasant dream, 

which they confuse

with nonsense of the night,

but we know how real we are.

 

We know how well our furry forms

rest together,

how we breathe each other

in sleep; 

we know how bold our leaping and jumping is

come morning,

when the fuzziness of night fades

and cold daylight requires, 

heaven knows, some boldness.

 

And so we hold each other

in our strong hare arms another night,

and feel each other’s whiskers

on each other’s cheeks,

and let the waters take us

to the deep places we dare to go. 

 

 

Thanks to Clare Pearl, whose painting - 'When the Mill Closes, the Workers Dream' - inspired this poem.