a poem a day for a year #81

by Amy Turn Sharp


I wake up for no good reason at 3:30 in the morning
over and over
like the baby is crying
mama mama
only he is not
he is sleeping like a stone
pressed into his quilts
spittle soft
and the other heartbeats of the home
are also down deep in the dream puddle
but I am awake
wondering if this is how you slowly go mad
wondering how to get inside of my head
and shake something up
turn a dial
flick a switch
make me free again
from the stomach pit nonsense worry after hours party
I host with vigour

I played air guitar at 4am in my underwear
to Bohemian Rhapsody
I thought about coffee
socks without mates
making love to my husband
field trip forms littering the van
soccer balls in the street
dirty kitchens
creativity
death

and why everyone else can sleep
why everyone else can dream