Needlessly Silly Thoughts at One in the Morning
For some reason I jerk awake.
Whatever my dream was is lost,
in swirling confusion and disorientation.
I find myself strangely mournful,
of something I don’t remember having.
How many moments do I forget?
How many adventures unravel,
behind bleary eyes and mussed hair,
chased away by the rays of morning,
leaving gossamer threads that unravel slow.
What spider weave those webs,
that strongly and tightly entrap me
in the tide of darkness each night,
only to break away as easily
as the thinnest of clouds?
But I do not know,
and never will
so I do what all others
who lay awake questioning do.
I sleep. And I forget.