Occasional Poem: An Insomniac at 6 a.m.
Early graying to dawn, this night
longer than death
I thought I heard the roar of lions
From a dreamscape of childhood—
I thought I felt the glancing starlight
Please. I crave sleep
Pink dawn, frosted grass
Autumn moving in
Over the foothills, a blanket
Of rain and hail–
Of the neighbor’s trash can–
On the crisp morning air.