It is well past midnight and outside
the birds and frogs in the wetland
announce the rain, unnecessary really,
as it beats a steady rhythm on the roof
and windows, pierced only
by claps of thunder and the lightning
which gives them short announcement.
The light dances through the closed
window blinds on what ought to be
an ink black night, and I know
the neighbor, still recovering
from cardiac surgery once
again cannot sleep and is ensconced
in the Lay-Z-Boy staring at the TV.
I bury my face in the pillow
and imagine I am once again
dreaming, but that reverie is
broken by the alarm and the sun
slowly creeping into the bedroom.