By Joseph Hesch
My days these days go by like eyeblinks.
Oops, there went another one.
It’s not that there’s a whole lot
happening during those between-blinks.
In fact barely anything occurs at all,
unless you like the flashing sameness
of unedited time-lapse photography
in an empty bedroom. Sun pours
through the window and seeps across
a tan percale bedspread, illuminating
an open, half-vacant closet.
Eventually, everything goes
altogether black, the sun so bored
it takes its business
around the planetary corner.
Maybe I sleep so poorly,
awakening too many times at night,
because I worry if this is all
I’ll ever see again—darkness.
Come dawn, I blink the night
from my eyes, counting up
even more days I've wasted,
worrying about wasting
my days these days.