Birdsong

As the lights go off
my mind turns on
and the day’s fatigue
is suddenly gone.
My eyes feel sore,
my limbs wilt like flowers,
but I lie wide awake
counting the hours.
Tick Tock. Rustle. Creak
I think thoughts
I’ll never speak
Did I turn my phone off?
What will I eat tomorrow?
Will he return the DVD
That I let him borrow?

My head aches,
the thoughts go round
interrupted, at last, by sound.
Lying helpless in my bed
I realise night is gone
as I hear the noise I dread:
morning’s first birdsong.
Through the curtain I see
an early ray of light
I want to howl as I lament
another sleepless night.