You need a silent rest
and I need recumbency.
I find a peaceful place,
I recline and read and write
throughout the night,
come to bed at dawn
to greet you as you rise.
But office workers
call at nine, nine thirty, ten
and so with blurry eyes I
pretend lucidity,
then fall back to sleep
until you return at two.
My head and ankle
have schedules
out of sync with offices,
though I’m in tuneful counterpoint
with you.
Shawn L. Bird 