Awake.
The moon is up there
shining right through into my room.
Too bright,
it's glow is the mother of all fluorescent lights.
It's ugly
a pale gray of desolation.
There is no life in it
for it is only aglow with the distant light of the sun.
This ghost will not leave me be.
I check the clock,
five in the morning.
Sirens sound in the streets below me
but they are no longer background noise.
These blares become piercing, alarming
as they should be.
How dulled have I become,
that I hear these alarms,
these announcements of death and despair,
and I can go back to sleep!
or continue to shower
or tune my attention back into the TV
So I lay awake
watching the ceiling grow brighter with the sunrise
The sirens pass into silence
and again I forget to hope
or even wonder
if everything will be okay.
