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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 3937 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Time for Insomnia Steve Williams In the black living room, lamplight peers in through cracks around the blinds. Even our dust sleeps. A clock signals the next date, but dawn lingers beyond the eastern stars, the dew remains unwept. Those midnight minutes are days long, as if a strip of film is held up to the light— each frame a night like the next, indistinguishable. Slumber is a magician; we awake to the dawn howling its potential in spectral tones, to dew that glistens on yesterday’s shadow, not caring it will soon evaporate, as it did in some other life. The orange cat gives me a fat yawn then washes her face with a new day that comes even to those who refuse to sleep. |
