To Those Who Stay Up Late
When streets are dark, and houses
emit only shadow from openings.
When the only sounds that come at you
are infrequent moans and squeaks
of the plumbing embedded in the ceiling,
or a fan whirring in the next room,
oceanic, fragmented.
Perhaps you seek company in electronics
or books. Pale pages or flickering screens
tell you a story you already know.
What are you worried you will miss.
What are you hoping to learn.
How did you know I was up at three a.m.? The creaking of the floor from little cat feet. Your poems are so personally evocative for me.
ReplyDeletemmm, I'm one of 'those' atm
ReplyDeletebeautiful one hannah.
xx
It's 2:37 am, and I have to drive a six to seven hour trip tomorrow. I'm looking for something, but I'm not sure what it is. Thanks for this poem. I'll be catching up on the rest of your poems soon, and looking forward to it.
ReplyDeleteI have three kids and when they are all asleep I relax and enjoy the silence. I enjoy it so much that I sometimes stay up too late!
ReplyDeleteReally great poem!
I'm a late night kind of gal, so this poem speaks to me. Every word.
ReplyDelete