Sunday, October 12, 2014

But I can't

soon there'll be
morning light,

I listen to
trailers in the distance
ground highway pavement
to dust,

my hands slowed
and cold I type by
open window
violet sky,

flickering light
of desk lamp bleeds
into space and dies

window creaks,
chains clamp,
engines drone,

I turn my sight
toward the bed,

my unrolled sleeping bag is
draped over mattress top,

I should be thinking
of sleep.

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