“INSOMNIATIC PULSE”

Feeling death
between morning hours,
where I cannot sleep any
longer. I visit her.
Or she visits me.
But neither ever stays
long enough for death
to
remember that I was ever
here,
enjoying her quiet absence
while the drag races play
and the morning owl
stalks the night away.

narrative poem written on 09-19-2011 by: on mattkane.com
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