Quarter To Twelve

Silently my mind drifts, what happen? only god knows, I thought I heard a knocking, then a whisper, but was too sleepy to answer. I wander through the busy towns, viewing man’s midnight secret. magnificent, gliding with the night, when your eyes are closed. Suddenly a knock on the door, pulling me breathlessly from my cotton quilt, my neighbor I supposed lost her keys, hammering loudly, the echoing sounds woke everyone. The confusion of the night hunts my soul, I traveled back and forth over this land, finding dark troubles struggling in my hands. Exhausted by its power I tried to sleep, but the night crept slowly away from me. I slipped into a shallow slumber. Again my eyes open slowly with the door, a ghost must have entered, I am sure, No, it was my roommate returning from her nightly chores. She slammed the door inflicting more pain to my sleepless soul. Sleep is such a gentle thing, but it is so hard for me. I could hear every laughter and chatter of the construction men working in the gutter. I twist and turn in the bed, but could not find a comfortable place for my head as I pulled the cover over my face, the alarm clock rings. ©2013 Christine Phillips