some time in the night
the rain outside is falling hard
the walkways are cold and damp
patron moths leave streetlamps
to pause on windowsills
under bedcovers i am warm
clinging on to consciousness
those overly confessional clouds
i turn my ear towards
planting my face in the pillow
a mummering,so soothing yet loud
i drift in and out of sleep
an impertinent wanderer
at last turning onto my back
with a lazy momentous flip
pausing to sigh
in the face of the air con
unremarkably i fell asleep
