I was up late, around 4 a.m.
I hadn’t stayed up that late,
I just woke up around three or so
and couldn’t get back to sleep.
I tried reading a short story, but
it didn’t help.
I got the story.
I understood what the author
was going with it.
I just couldn’t get past the coffee I had
earlier in the evening.
I was wide awake and
surprised I fell asleep at all.
It was early Sunday morning,
so I opened the blinds to watch
Thinking I could make the most of it—
see the sunrise.
Instead, I fell asleep again and dreamed
about the story I’d read.
There was a baby in it, an ugly one,
which is nothing like a new day at all.