Bedtime

Somewhere, people rise to go to jobs that

keep them up all night, crawling back to bed
to sleep with curtains drawn against the sun
while I throw off the covers.  Walking slowly
to the kitchen for the daily coffee making,
then outside to get the paper someone folded
hours before, hoping neighbors do not notice
that I'm out there in my nightgown, but having
lived too long on property without the eyes of
others to much care. Somewhere, people stretch
and dress and face the darkness as their day,
but I have always been a morning person,
and dreams are calling me to bed to while
away the night, the quiet of the house a tender
lullaby, the comfort of a favorite pillow and a
quilt that's just the proper weight
for this time of the year.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2014