Awake at Two in the Morning

At two  in the morning, I lie awake in the quiet of the night.
A police car, siren blaring, whizzes by. Silence returns.
Thoughts tumble endlessly in my mind, some happy, others not quite.

The kids' faces on a long-ago Christmas morning, pure delight.
Playing catch with them, watching a school play, times for which my heart yearns.
At two in the morning, I lie awake in the quiet of the night.

I realize the fridge was running when it shuts off. A moth in flight
Flitters about the room. The croaking peepers can't hush my concerns.
Thoughts tumble endlessly in my mind, some happy, others not quite.

Things I should have done; things I should not have done that now can't be put right
Haunt me in the wee hours. I made mistakes and I took wrong turns.
At two in the morning, I lie awake in the quiet of the night.

My kids, my grandchildren, my friends make the world bright.
Damn MS; this spastic body; how will I cope? The question burns.
Thoughts tumble endlessly in my mind, some happy, others not quite.

The furnace comes on. White noise subdues the uproar, the mental blight,
And the meeting between my high hopes and low expectations adjourns.
At two in the morning, I lie awake in the quiet of the night,
Thoughts tumble endlessly in my mind, some happy, others not quite.

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