Canąt Sleep
Sitting
up late alone; canąt sleep.
Thunder is rumbling.
Rain lashes against the window.
There are dogs asleep on the rug,
cats snoozing on the couches,
one long son stretched out, also asleep.
My husband is sleeping like a baby in the bed upstairs;
I kept him up too late last night. No, too early this morning.
Talking, holding hands, giggling.
We watched TV; he dozed, I wept.
Les Mis, the concert version.
It always makes me cry.
I tried to read - couldnąt concentrate.
In nine more minutes it will be 6 AM,
and I havenąt been to sleep at all.
No one is awake. Only me!
I am writing, while even my computer cronies sleep.
The room is dark except for the muted glow of the screen.
I am eager to see the dawn and the damn rain is in the way!
Rain and thunder, thunder and rain.
No sun. No sleep. No one to talk to.
It is so quiet here.
I am alone but not lonely.
I feel a deep sense of peace.
It is so quiet, I can hear the soft snoring of my tall son.
My big, black, scary looking dog is afraid of thunder,
so I comfort him, gently rubbing his shaggy head.
Now he is asleep!
It is so quiet.
©
Ellie Maziekien
8/16/2000