Ode to 2 AM
to the computer battery, giving up the ghost
the screen going blank
whirring fan going silent
to the dry pen barrel
nothing left to give
to my heavy lids
and slumped torso
fighting off inevitable sleep
to the freezer icemaker
rattling me awake
to the steady ticks
of the analog clock
marking the dark seconds
until light breaks
to the silent sleeping souls
whose cacophony makes
the swirling days splendid
and whose blessed nighttime stillness
allows thoughts to form
and expand like clouds
blowing up over the plains
adrift heavy with the promise of rain
that might soak and satisfy
the columbines
bowed by the house’s heat
to the locked doors
keeping the bears at bay
to the chocolate and wine
whispering in the cupboard
and the warm bed
countering their call
to the fuzzy blanket
tucking me in
in my half-asleep state
agreeable for examining
the dreamy subconscious
to the paper obediently absorbing
graphite, ink, ideas, my self
to those who will
put up with me tomorrow
and those who cluck their tongues
at my questionable habits
my inability to do
what’s right and reasonable
to the quiet stars straining
to put all this and more
into expanded perspective
to the sofa’s creak
when I finally tear myself away
to all these
I insincerely promise
I will do better tomorrow
(goodnight)
