Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Sleepless (Poem 175)

one-twenty-five    two o'clock even 
though it's cool and even though 
I'm warm   fuzzy anticipation 
of fuzzy thinking 
like drinking red wine 
on a hot dry afternoon    aching 
for tomorrow's ache 
the kind sleepless nights make 
marble statues of us all    
around three get up 
and fake it trying to ignore 
the gray seeping in around the edges 
of the midnight curtain 
empty bottle mind like blowing 
on a dandelion and wishing 
a cloud would cover the moon 
so   in this room   the sponginess 
of the bed and my head give nothing 
away when daylight 
comes too 
soon   too soon

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six