Some nights I lie awake.  No reason.
Maybe the moon is new or full,
or unfinished thoughts percolate
to the surface of a yet unsettled mind.
I spend time noticing the shades of night.

Infant daughter by my side,
chasing my breasts across the bed.
Num, num, num, num, she drowsily
pulls at the nipple; moonlight illuminating
the top of her ear, the curve of her cheek.

I, restless yet, listen to the rhythmic internal song.
Oh mind - still yourself!  Be still!  The rivers
tides slough gently against the shore.
I wish these chattering waves would calm
against my slumped and weary pillow.


Linda Lyng
Copyright ©2004 Linda Lyng

Insomnia