Getting to sleep is
never a problem for me -
well, almost never.
Head lowered to pillow,
eyes just close,
breathing settles,
I'm away.
Sweet dreams, or none.
Others, I know,
speak of tossing
and turning, dozing
and starting up -
full-on insomnia,
flat out without rest,
implying there's something
nobly pathetic
in wakefulness.
Come off it! I do
recall such nights, useful
for thinking, planning,
regretting also.
Fearing the future -
ever-nearing death -
in the dark before dawn
that's also much done.
(How many sleeps
till the big one?)
So saying to myself
in the dark, I hear
two o'clock chime,
three - enough, stupid -
has to be concluded -
to be concluded.
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