My Sleep Waits For The Light
Only drift into a dream once the sun begins to rise.
There’s no room for sleep —
the silence of the night
is not so still to swallow my sight. The eyes
only bear the strength to quiver—
in the dark,
with all that is now left — ajar.
Don’t look too far:
only catch a glimpse of light
before it cushions the wearied fright
with a gentle hush, now —
and make some room—for a dream.