1 am

1 am creeps along the bedroom walls,

it moves as vast shadows

cast by a navy night sky

hanging above a light polluted town.


The woman is awake;

1 am can hear the fabricated waves

of meditation and white noise.

She would rock herself to sleep

if she could wrap her arms

about herself and sing quietly

the lullabies she has been taught by the stars.

1 am knows she is too afraid of the dark.


1 am continues to stretch, flex

itself around the room, clockwise,

when she smiles.

The waves end and her ears prick

feline and alert;

she has heard the birds.

No one remembers 1 am

has more than the urban fox.

The woman hears them

loud and clear,

birds in the guttering

above her bedroom window.


1 am is starting to leave

and notices now how she breathes

deeply and finally,

at one with herself.



© Kristiana Reed 2019


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