Sunday, December 13, 2009

Erika Wilk


I turn on the Bose by my bedside table hope

that a softly played adagio will help me drift off

notes hang in the air like Monarch butterflies

in trees their wings open to gentle sun

still sleep escapes me

counting sheep won’t do a hundred things occupy

my mind –family, friends, a planned trip, food

at two forty five the thought of green tea makes

me get up to look at the box two cups of this

delicate brew enhanced my dinner

tired eyes search for the word decaf but

like sleep it is not to be found

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