Saturday, February 3, 2024

Sleepwalking While Awake

She tiptoed down the carpeted
Steps at just half past seven,
Having been lost in her tunes

And her shows and her drawings.
She’d become vaguely convinced
It was later, everyone

Sleeping below her, midnight,
Maybe, more her usual
Time to be alone awake.

It was dark enough outside,
But she could have checked the time.
She caught herself paused mid-stairs,

Was she dreaming and the world
Awake, or did the world sleep
While she, lightfoot, haunted it?

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