Wearing the mantle
of autumn. Cold starry nights
days of leaf-strewn gold.
Seasonal attire
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Wearing the mantle
of autumn. Cold starry nights
days of leaf-strewn gold.
I must be up in
five hours. It’s like walking a
tightrope…or knife edge.
My small gift to my
self – a few words at the end
of a busy day.
Every night I
play Russian Roulette with sleep
instead of bullets.
I said I’d be in
bed by ten. Then midnight. Now
it’s one. How ’bout three?
When the going gets
tough, I end up sleeping on
the couch, fully clothed.
Turn the clocks back next
week? I could use that extra
hour of sleep right now…
My eyeballs feel like
they’re wearing socks – thick, itchy,
uncomfortable.
Seductive silence
wraps me past midnight. I crave
the absence of sound.
At 6:30 they
awake to find I’m still up.
The curse of deadlines.