North

I’m naked, coverless, cold, awake,
Listening to the rain, the quiet, peaceful rain,
Silence stirring sound around in drops of element;

My friend over there, the man on the bed,
Hears his dreams.
Snoring and lifting his tired legs to spin away my covers,
Tucked away under my warmth, he has entertainment.

My jaw hurts, aches with arthritis, and the stink of sleepy breath;
I wait for sleep, for my unconscious world,
The one I make better than this silent rainfall, silent questions;

Orange light peeks through black at the window,
Casting purple shade along his narrow arm,
I follow the shade with my finger tips,
Drifting them softly with the lever of my brain
Across my friend who lingers, there, beneath the covers,
Beneath the real, and over the rain, over the quiet, peaceful rain.

In sleep, there are the answers, behind a dark, distinguished door—
A happy path to nowhere and nothing.