Home » Poems » Barbara Peckham » Odd Hours

Odd Hours

It’s four AM
I’m wide awake
no chance of more sleep
clicking noises 
from the dining room
low hum
is it voices?
I get up
pad into the dining room.
daughter and grandson
playing Yahtzee
at the dining table
laughing together
grandson worked late
daughter insomniac
I sit down
join the game
daughter finally
peels off for more sleep
grandson and I
continue playing
he makes a sandwich
cuts me up
an orange
I have an oatmeal
cookie with my coffee
grandson decides to 
go to bed
I stay up 
dress for church
write some poetry
it’s nine o’clock

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Quoth Theraven

Date: 8/30/2025 1:22:00 PM

Barbara, There's truth in awakening, especially before the sun says we're supposed to. Perhaps the trappings of an unsettled heart, who knows. I do know there's an appeal to embrace time in this fine circadian write. What name do we give to all our best moments in time; memories. -Richard

Roxanne Andorfer

Date: 5/17/2025 12:55:00 PM

A delightful poem to which I can really relate! I too am a very early riser. Thank you for sharing it!

Barbara Peckham
Date: 5/17/2025 5:28:00 PM

Thanks so much for the read and the nice comment. Ordinarily I am not an early riser, but it does happen occasionally

Kim Rodrigues

Date: 5/5/2025 10:22:00 AM

LOL! I do love this one! I would have done the same. Did they go to church with you? God bless you, Barbara! Fave!

Barbara Peckham
Date: 5/5/2025 2:03:00 PM

Thank you so much for reading my work and commenting. I really appreciate it! We do keep very odd hours around here as my daughter is a real insomniac, and my grandson works different shifts. I am just a bit crazy.