Yet to Fall Asleep

 I lie in the silence

of Dawn's pre-light.

So fuckin early

that even the birds

are still sleeping in.

So fuckin late,

And I've yet to fall asleep.

Cuddling with loved ones.

Hearing the sleeping breaths

and uncontrolled coughs,

of close friends,

Who have come from afar,

to help pull it all together.

The light brightens now.

Even the cocky roosters

seem to be sleeping in.

On this lazy Sunday morning,

Following a late Saturday night,

I contemplate the labors

of our harvest,

And I close my eyes,

perchance to dream,

if only but for

a while