Saturday, February 28, 2015

6 am, on Long Island

They didn't believe me when 
I told them, gently, that I would do my best to
Be very quiet
For I knew I would wake up 
Very early
And need to occupy myself for a long time to let them sleep

I've been in the practice since I was a child
Seems I've always had a proclivity for early mornings
Needing to mull things over
Allow myself to be sad
Tears onset before it seems my eyes are open

What fears have happ'd in dreams
I know not
These days I don't remember my dreams
Sleep is short and weak
My body reveals the upset state
Of heart
The uncertainty of today
Of tomorrow
The Sehnsucht for a small piece of hope
That will not come.

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