AFTERNOON snoozers may recognise the phenomenon Ruth Fainlight describes so graphically in this sample from her New and Collected Poems (Bloodaxe, £20).

The New-York-born poet lives in London. This substantial volume covers 50 years' work, drawing from more than a dozen volumes, including a new collection.

THE LIMITATIONS OF TIREDNESS

The fierce hiss of sap in a burning log

is the same sound sleep makes as it withdraws

from me when I lie down these winter afternoons.

At first my hands relax and warmth spreads

through limbs which suddenly seem larger.

The blue and brown of moving skies and

surging water as the tide pulls out

across the sandflats concentrate between

my brows into a point of light I stare at

while the noise gets louder. I never know

why it stops, why, with a heart-lurch and a deep-drawn breath of alarm I turn back to the room

and fire and desk and wake to a stormy dusk:

the limitations of tiredness.