settling in on  the top berth

exchanged for my lower

with an elder

I glance around

“three men and me-perfect”

I whisper to my husband

gnashing his teeth,

hundreds of miles away

 

the rhythmic beat of

iron wheels on tracks

weigh heavy on my eyelids

as they shut out senses

inviting sleep

 

QUEEYOUUUUU

rudely awakeened, I

gather my bearings

waiting – there it was again

queeyouuuu

quickly followed by a

phewewew,  yet another

groooooo ….

three men with

three snores

queeyouuuu, phewewewew, groooooo

groaning  inwardly I

bury my face in the pillow

good-bye sleep

 

queeyouuuu,

I start timing the next

phewewewew

three beats to the next

groooooo

one following the other

in perfect sync with

the periodic pulse of iron wheels

 

strange midnight lullaby

rocking me gently till soon

I’m dead to the world, perhaps

snoring

 

 

Elizabeth Kuriakose