Morning has long come, and I
and still awake thinking, perhaps
dreaming about the life that
I’ve lived and what might be.

Overthinking, contemplating,
is my habit as much as your
drug of choice, and I lay here
imbibing my addiction till daylight.

Among the ruins of the night I
walk with thoughts, and they often
find words in this dance of silence
as a possum ran across the roof.

1/10/2024