In the early morning hour
the one after
your deepest sleep
but desperately far
from when you need to wake;
When your eyes open
into that fragile
not-night, not-morning,
You’ll find yourself occupying
the night-corners.
The shadows are sinewy, silky
and glide easily along your tangled mind-paths,
dipping into
pockets of worry
and dangling each fear in front of your eyes
as you stare at nothing, at the dark.
And as each worry arises, you may quell it
and silently reassure
or perhaps berate
your silly, fearful mind.
And then when you relax away from the worry shadows,
you will likely
unintentionally
drift
to that other night corner
over there
where the regret
the one you thought you’d finally put to rest
awakens, crying out for
another visit,
eager to explore what if, what if, what if.
Resist this siren’s call,
resist
with a touch lighter than a dragonfly’s wing.
Gently smudge those corners back into the night,
and breathe in the mysterious
sleepless
dark.
Breathe deeply.
Again
and again
and again.
Ann Wagner Foley is a poet at heart, and in her day job, a trainer and project consultant at UC Davis. Ann lives in Citrus Heights, sharing her home with her devoted husband (Jim), inspiring daughter (Rebecca) and their furry and comforting companions. Ann finds her inspiration not only from these local beloveds but also across the ether from her siblings, stepdaughter, and friends scattered all over the country.
