Drowsing Rod

Sleep came in fits and starts. Terror and calm, twin rivers winding through every realm of consciousness. Mixing in places, brackish, salt and freshwater, you're my estuary 

Alert, alert, decoding the susurrus wind and lapping waters

Uncertainty plods closer, hidden in riparian shadow. I can't set it, only the rustling as its bulk pushes through the vegetation. 

It was always here, just sleeping 

I cannot outrun it. So I wait.