Still awake again still.
The silence of the stillness makes me scan the scale of sleepless possibilities.
Yesterday isn’t over and today hasn’t begun,
The spring rain whispers hints of summer
To those of us awake enough to hear.
Time doesn’t matter here, until it does
Just keep counting, by primes
Eventually we will all be asleep,
And these words will live on.
Categories: Writing
Doug Heal 