Time slips past midnight
I fold into a fetus under the quilt
so the dogs can stretch on the foot of the bed
Through the open window wafts rose scent
and Autumn's breath tickles my lashes
Cold air carries the whine of semis from the highway
and a lonely canine whimper
Let me in
Let me in to warm beds and ticking clocks
to the pftt, pftt, pftt of my lover's sleep
I hang in suspension
half awake, half asleep
lost between now and then
Copyright 2012 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
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