I’m awake again.

What is it this time?
Once it was meetings, or deadlines,
or a program I was debugging on my computer.
Now it might be anything
rising above the plain of routine,
casting a shadow
that reaches into nighttime.

It’s four hours until sunrise;
I can’t stay up waiting for it.
Lying here doesn’t work;
my thoughts won’t shut off.
Sometimes counting up and down
between zero and five
can drown out the buzz of thought
and give sleep a chance to sneak back.
Or watching the shapes
seen by closed eyes
can roll me back into slumber.

But not tonight.

So I get up and bring my book from bedside,
tiptoeing to the empty guestroom
angled across carpeted hallway,
while my warm wife dreams
next to my cooling space.

I close the door to block light,
but not to stop my dog
who noticed me depart
and knows this is his chance
to burrow under covers with me.
Soon he is twitching in dreams
as I finish another chapter .

My eyes are growing heavy at last.
Quickly I take off my glasses,
turn out the light,
and join the snoring dog
 lying at my back.



© 2008 Michael Yanega
14 November 2008









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