Last Night/This Morning


I woke in the middle of the night, last night

Sheets wringing wet with sweat

I woke again in the light, all poetic

And wrote out the first couplet


I rose from the bed, words unfinished

I showered, and then stripped the bed

I carried the sheets to the washing machine

While writing more words in my head


I started the wash without thinking

Neglecting to put in the soap

It was hard, with the realization

Not to feel like a blithering dope


But I know that I get distracted that way

When clouds of wordplay have caught me

Especially, when I try to do something

Before I have had morning coffee.


That first poem ended itself as a sonnet

This one did too; that one’s under my bonnet.