At 2am, sleep is like a stranger
I see on a street in my hometown
I recognize her face
But before I can ask where I know her from
She darts across the lanes of traffic
Around a corner
And disappears
The cars speed by
Blocking my path
And through the side windows
As they pass I see
An old friend
Charlie Sheen
A guy from work I need to talk to
The cars keep moving
And the light never changes
The countdown - 25, 24, 23, 25, 24, 23
I step out anyway
And the road is sticky
My shoes barely move
And the cars keep coming
Each one with a familiar occupant
A homeless man I saw yesterday
My grandkids
My daughter's boyfriend
Two nuns with a Buddhist monk
Lao Tzu and Robin Williams
A guy from work I need to talk to
He must be circling the block
The parade of cars keeps coming
I see a slight break in the traffic
So I sprint across the street in pursuit
But when I round the corner
I'm in my back yard
With weeds that need pulling
I step into my house through the back door
And see the cabinets that need painting
And my laptop
With the emails that need answering
There's a knock on the front door
The dog barks
He hears a noise in the night
I realize I've been dreaming
With my eyes open to the darkness
It's 2:12am
Twelve minutes passed
Like cars on a country road
And in the distance
I see her hitch hiking
Brake lights glare, hurting my eyes
Sleep gets in the back seat
And the car speeds off
Into the night
As I stand along the road
Waiting in the dark
For the first light of morning
pop's poetry 