3 A.M. - August 31, 2020

Gary Hunter

eyes open

the overhead fan

wobbles in the gloom

if I could only pull the chain

blow the minutes and hours

out the open window

or beg the sun to come early

and kick that moon

over the mountain

my head does a half turn

hits a cool spot

on the pillow

I sink into a dream

night vision suddenly sharp

at running in the dark

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