What is it about two o’clock, the bitching hour? Dreaded double-strike. The eyes snap open, no retreat from wakefulness– it’s just a poem.
Posted in Home, Life, memory, Night, Poem, Sleep, Uncategorized, Universe, Writing
Tagged clocks, wakefulness, work, writing
The night is still and round. An ocean rises from city traffic as my skin rejoices the fan whirling from the ceiling. I sit where the dog sleeps when he’s here. I can almost hear his stir and stretch as … Continue reading
Posted in Night, Poetry, Sleep, Slice of Life
Tagged dogs, humanity, insomnia, life, nature, night, poem, trains, wakefulness