The Sliding Hour
A yawn of a gap
opens a crack in this bed rock
through which I slip,
like a coin in the chair back,
a safety pin,
one small white button
from your shirt.
In this sliding hour
it’s dark
as the underbed space
to a child, narrow but infinite
empty as a lift shaft
without a lift.
Your hand, heavy with sleep,
finds me
and hauls me home.
…
Nick Browne is an established novelist and aspiring poet and poetry critic. Nick’s work has appeared in Acumen, Ink, Sweat and Tears, Poetry Wivenhoe, Snakeskin, Blue Nib as well as being anthologised in Bollocks to Brexit, Eyewear’s ‘A Poet’s Quest for God’ and in Indigo Dream’s forthcoming collection ‘Dear Dylan.’
atriumpoetry.com 