Then you spend the night tossing about
turning this way and that, too tired and
yet restless, too deep in your sheets and
blankets to surface to perhaps try to read
or watch TV, to use the hours for more than
this, to act as if this all fits into your plans.
In the past it was the weight of the day you
just finished, and other nights it would be
the day coming up, obligations and tight
schedules, a meeting, a class, that person
at work, a colleague or student with this
complaint, with that request, never fit into
sleep patterns, never curled up there with you
and let you sleep. It was that way but now
it’s something else, without all those work
concerns you still lie awake, thinking about
the book you are reading or wonder about
what might be on, late night TV seems right
on a night like this, but still you stay there
tangled in your blankets, tangled in things
you can’t explain – perhaps, too little to do
weighs as much as too much to do, perhaps
your body is trying to tell you something
about making use of time and that sleep is
off somewhere, is something you must earn.
J. K. Durick is a retired writing teacher and online writing tutor. His recent poems have appeared in Literary Yard, Black Coffee Review, New Feathers Anthology, Synchronized Chaos, Madswirl, and Highland Park Poetry.