The wee hours
4:20 am
An odd time
Neither early Nor late
Just a hair shy
Of Dawn’s fabled crack
A mind’s wandering carnival
Giving rise to half
Formed, dream induced,
Melatonin fueled, hallucinations
In and out,
Focus slips, as sleep’s slippery grasp,
Tries, and fails to subdue
Overdosed caffeinated thoughts
All the world appears silent
Notifications off, sleep focus phone
No one to talk to
Neither early nor late
Just early enough to not be late
A little too late to be considered early
A time in tween’ twilights
Silly, sad, sleepy, simple, and so on
Seems poetry finds fast friends
In such wee hours as these
Giving birth to thee’
Mine own soliloquy
Time to surrender
To pillow’s padded perfection
Fan’s circulated breeze
And become the dreamer
This piece is part of my book The Seven Thunders.
Available now on Amazon — and free with Kindle Unlimited.