Three in the morning

Dislodged

From the serpent arms of sleep

As a soft rain falls

In a dismal drum pattern

–

All is calm

In this far away nest of wires

Where my skeletons dance

To a puppet string’s pull

–

Before the hostile hours 

Slowly whir to life

Before they draw me in

To their serrated embrace

–

I belong to this fog

Among the jagged headstones

Where all lost loves toll

Their refrains of regret