Mind

When you wake in the night again
and the temperature’s dropped
and you’re frosted with anxiety

and you reach for unconsciousness,
but it won’t come because someone
started throwing stuff around

in your aching head, pulling out
one ghastly scenario after another
and waving them in your face so

you try instead to summon all the
places you’d rather be, the walks
you dream of taking, the countries you

long to visit, the beloved who, sensing
your distress, would of course leap
out of bed to make you a cup of tea and

you wonder if imagination is a blessing
or a curse and wish your wondering,
wandering mind would just

Photo: mural by RUN, Dulwich Village (detail)