Then you spend the night tossing about

turning this way and that, too tired and

yet restless, too deep in your sheets and

blankets to surface to perhaps try to read

or watch TV, to use the hours for more than

this, to act as if this all fits into your plans.

In the past it was the weight of the day you

just finished, and other nights it would be

the day coming up, obligations and tight

schedules, a meeting, a class, that person

at work, a colleague or student with this

complaint, with that request, never fit into

sleep patterns, never curled up there with you

and let you sleep. It was that way but now

it’s something else, without all those work

concerns you still lie awake, thinking about

the book you are reading or wonder about

what might be on, late night TV seems right

on a night like this, but still you stay there

tangled in your blankets, tangled in things

you can’t explain – perhaps, too little to do

weighs as much as too much to do, perhaps

your body is trying to tell you something

about making use of time and that sleep is

off somewhere, is something you must earn.

J. K. Durick is a retired writing teacher and online writing tutor. His recent poems have appeared in Literary Yard, Black Coffee Review, New Feathers Anthology, Synchronized ChaosMadswirl, and Highland Park Poetry.