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Noises of the Night


The Bose clock blinked from
four twenty-nine to four
thirty. Falling asleep on the

sofa was hard enough given
the hard circumstances of the
day. I was up at eleven, one,

three, and four. Too tired to
sleep; too tired to get up.
That’s when I moved to the

loveseat to stare back at the
word “Vizio” in red staring at
me from the console across

the room. The WiFi hub
blinked intermittently as did I.
The only thing I could hear

was the hum of the refrigerator
turning off, the eerie sounds
coming from my stomach and

night noises. The nightlight
next to the stove was a comfort.
As the digital clock rolled over

to five ten, I tried not to dwell
on my failures about which the
Lord knows very well. All I could

think about was the coming
dawn, a hot cup of coffee or
two,
and the noises of the night.

Categories: Poetry

Tagged as:

alslaff

Poet, Writer, US Army (Retired)

I dreamed of writing when I was a youngster. The love of books and writing may have helped to dull the pain of severe sexual abuse as I was sexually abused by two men at my father’s place of work from age 8 to 12 or so. I learned about this for the first time when I was 50 years old. So, as a boy, reading was the only place I had to go to. My fantasy world was better and safer than my real world. I loved reading and writing.
Reading books and writing poetry are a joy to me still and are an important part of my life. (See my About Me page on my blog for the complete profile.)

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