Sleepless

Another sleepless night in Cherryhill...

To quote a poem -  

How many voices have escaped you until now,
the venting furnace, the floorboards underfoot,
the steady accusations of the clock
numbering the minutes no one will mark.
The terrible clarity this moment brings,
the useless insight, the unbroken dark.


-Dana Gioia, "Insomnia"

Oh, how I hate not being able to sleep.