Wednesday, March 18, 2020

Night Owl

wide awake at three a.m.,
my neighborhood is still.
Even the teenager across the street,
broken curfew,
is home now.
I watched him park his car,
headlights off,
and sneak into his house
through the side door.
A few minutes later,
his bedroom upstairs was briefly illuminated
and then darkened for good.
A fat raccoon,
clutching some piece of garbage in its mouth,
lucky treasure hunter,
darts across the road.
Mars is bright tonight,
ruling first one piece of the sky
and then moving to another.
I turn again to the television,
looking for company,
but finding only infomercials
promising eternal youth and smoother skin,
questionable careers in real estate,
dire warnings of identity fraud and credit card debt,
and I think I kind of want that air fryer.
I mute the TV,
but let the images flicker
against my eyelids.
I feel a deep ache in my bones
that no pill can ease,
and my mind refuses to slow,
to-do lists and what if’s
spiraling out of control.
a cricket rants ceaselessly,
but I don’t hear a reply.

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