Sleeplessness
By Jeffrey
Bowen (November 2019)
I
lie awake in darkness.
My
mind discovers a life of its own.
Images
roll in like waves,
And
problems float to the surface
With
help or hindrance
From unpredictable characters.
Nothing
is resolved, everything unraveling.
I
remember my first night in this room,
Wrapped
in a sleeping bag before we moved in.
The
humming of the city still echoed,
But
out in the country
The
silence was surround sound.
I
could actually hear it.
The
dark was a disquieting cloak.
Tonight
a sweet tragic song from my teenage years
Plays
in my head like a scratched up 45.
I
hear the words again and again
To
a point where the record skips.
I forget the lyric, but I know it rhymes.
As
my night mind wanders,
I
dream that I am never quite on time,
Never
packed but urgently due somewhere.
I
wander through familiar offices
But
don’t really know where to go.
Often
I meet the bastards who made life difficult.
In
the semi-dark I trace the shreds
Of
cold snowlight peeping through the window corners.
The
furnace comes to life.
The
pipes creak as their water veins swell.
The
dog sighs and shifts positions.
So do I.
But
there is little comfort as my shoulders
Complain
to each other,
And
my legs refuse to rest.
As
it works it way from town to town
And
then recedes as it always does on schedule.
I
remember my preset.
imprinted
long ago when I had to mind the weather.
Retirement
never stops me from awakening
Precisely
at 5 a.m.
But
that is two hours away.
So I lie in stillness half aware,
And
I wait, then wait some more.
The
images, my urgent mission,
My teenage angst, the furnace,
And
my strange dark life
Recycle
as I shift and toss.
Then
gradually, but without warning,
I
disappear.
Later I can never remember when.
