The long night
continues, long after
it should be over.

Don’t feel like rising;
don’t feel anything, really.
A dog trots by, indifferent

to the lonely car running
by the curb. It’s dark outside
and getting darker; you slept

through the daylight
and ended up back in the dark.
Surprise: you damn fool,

you missed the glorious day
wishing for permanent night.
You could have gotten up

for it. You could have risen
and beaten the dog to his pathway
past the car and toward —

toward what, exactly? The car
keeps running. The dark
returns. The darkness,

as always, returns
and the car runs and the dog
will turn toward you

and then back to trotting
its path. You can’t stand it,
can you? You weren’t meant to —

you were meant to stay behind,
sit on the cold sidewalk, trying
to weep but failing,

watching the dog trundling away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T