Sound of the Sleeping

2 a.m.

Everything is sleeping

But here I am; wide awake.

With thoughts of you,

racing through my mind.

 

The silence; deafening.

Could it be any louder?

Where are the crickets?

A realisation- it is winter.

 

A shiver of light

escapes from the blinds on my window.

In this darkness, it looks like the entrance to heaven.

But I know that it is only the moon.

This poem is about: 
Me

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