Jan Hauck (June 1,1978)

The way these things sneak up on me
And keep me awake,
A necklace made of red discs,
Waiting for a sign or word,
With waves drowning the current,
Deeper, deeper down where it is calm,
Like woodworms drilling their way into my head
And keep me awake.

The spirit of a woman dead for fifty years,
And another by ripples occupy my mind
And keep me awake,
Writing, thinking, agonising hours,
Yet perfect and worthwhile drive me on
And keep me awake,
Gratefully I let these things help me feel alive,
And keep me awake.