Ah, there you are
the vestigial sprouts of sleep.
I searched everywhere for you
almost went outside to check for you.
And here you show, right at my side.
Awaiting my call? I think not.
More likely it is
that you know
just when to show up—
just passed when
I need you most.
Or, alternately,
you too, had had enough
and decided to return home
to get whatever it is
you get from me
when I manage to sleep.
No matter your reason for appearing
in my eleventh sleepless hour,
I’m grateful you came
before my alternate next:
a psychotic break beckoned by
late stages of sleep deprivation.
© 2010 Shari Lynne Smothers
