When, in the course of
Sleeping, I stumble across
Some disturbance in a dream
I will then find myself awake.
Awakeness is a layered process,
But eventually I squint at the
Digital clock (if the laundry isn’t
Blocking it) and come out of it.
I might feel tired enough to
Escape, but usually
My mind turns to pressing
Concerns from the other side.
I roll. And I roll. I turn on my side, then
On my back, then around and around
Until, on my stomach, I gaze
At another Michael Epstein revelation
The New York Times feeds me.
Another turn and — AHHH there’s the
Spot! (propped up on my elbow on
My left side) — that is, until
It isn’t. Eventually I have to
Google the coronavirus symptoms again
And text my sister at 4 a.m. because
I’m sure she has COVID Toes.
My time. That special sliver of
Night when silence pervades
The house and I am alone with
My thoughts, such as they are.