Thursday, May 07, 2009

Asheville Insomniac

It’s after midnight.

 

As I look out

of my hotel room window,

I see a mountain mist

meandering across

the mall parking lot.

 

Specks of rain

have peppered my window,

so I play an eye game

by reflecting the street lights

through the spattered pane.

 

My room’s refrigerator

chirps contentedly

like an Icelandic cicada.

Somewhere,

down the hall,

I hear a subdued television.

 

I smile

and settle down

to sleep.

I much prefer

my own

secluded

Late Show.

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