Wednesday, 23 May 2012

Night Visitor

The silence is tranquil.
Eyes close gently and I feel
a soft breath beside me as my friend sleeps.

Then a sound.
I listen.
I try to decipher
then nothing.

Eyes close.
The quiet sleeping of my friend
does not disturb me.
The sound comes again -
a distant rasp of a click clack.

Click clack; trick track, brick brack;
Ceaseless, getting louder.

I lie awake
A smile pulls at the edges of my mouth.
Sleep is no longer important because I want to listen.

I know this sound.
I stay awake
revelling in the privilege
of sharing the night with
an insomniac corncrake.


  1. An insomniac corncrake oh what joy. I have neither seen or heard a corncrake, lucky Doris. This is a great poem kept me on tenterhooks right until the end. X X X

  2. Cuby poet: The corncrake is still outside my window. I have spent many hours with my binoculars but it is very secretive. It is a privilege to live in this wonderful environment.