Another Sleepless Night Poem by Brian Sonberg

Another sleepless night in paradise.
In dreams, I chase mice,
Or rats...
Anything to soil this sterility.

Sometimes I dream that I'm an astronaut
As my room looks the same.
No widows; sealed door.
Outside it might be beautiful or dangerous.

Reality is the sound of disinfectant
on mop-slapped linoleum
But I'm sure that someone is dying,
Their fragile contents now on the floor.

The fluorescent's light is weak
Like noisy candle light,
But the white paint is too bright
And needs to be dulled.

Somewhere, a baby's cry
Ebbs to shallow breath,
To silent statistic.
And I feel momentary shame in my iron grip.

Sometimes, fragments slip from lips
To join me.
Their owners unconscious or uncaring
Of my fears.

'He never had a chance',
Drifts down hallways with
Other ghosts
From some central command.

People hurry like bees
To their assigned routines
But somehow slow-honey drunk
In rubber soles.

It's a consensus that winter is for dying.
I'm reminded of meat preserved in freezers,
But I decide it's the summer heat
That makes things rot.

So it's some time in May
When I speak once again.
I've found my words; Just two.
(Last Name) comma (First)
My voice, reduced to a toe-tag.