Up Now

I know the night. I know this night.
I have been up doing small things upon things
for no reason
besides I can't sleep.

After the surprise
"It's late!"
come the tries
to drift, but
the clicking lamp back on, the rolling, scoot, sit.

I am up. I know this night. Boredom.
Moving slow. So
slow. Then, sweet night
is here. I know this night! This night
reminds me that it's all fine. I am alone.
It's so quiet. Blanche whirs, stops. I write, stop.
There's something personal here--something very
velvety. I love this night!

I move with more excitement. I sort through new inspirations.
I gracefully gather up all the yolk of dreams and ex-worries.
I whisk them into night's filling. Night's work.
I work. I plot. I plan--it's all good until--

I know this night. Oh, how I know it.
I'm alone again.
It's fall again.
It's cold here. I need some noise to drown out my own remembered conversations!
Please!
A noise!
I know this night
of let-downs. Of pasts--they do not change.
I know the night now. I know it now.