Poem by Ariel Francisco





It isn’t raining tonight, so I know
it’s you scurrying about above me,
your footfalls a soft drizzle keeping
sleep at bay, and again I am the sad
child with the storm cloud over his head.
Normally, I would hate you, consider
spending this sleepless time driving
to Wal-Mart for rat traps or worse,
those cubes that coagulate your blood
into something thicker than the cough syrup
I’m trying to ween off of. But tonight
I’m too tired to hate you. Tonight
I wish you only peace, knowing
that if you sleep, then maybe I will too.