Countdown to Fall – Sleep Deprived: Poetry for a Too Early Wednesday Morning

Well, I was going to write on another topic today, but my brain is too fried from lack of sleep to properly turn the phrase.  Too many days of too much muggy heat finally caught up with me.  I've been awake more than usual during the night and finally gave up and got up at 3 AM.  I'm presently listening to cicadas and crickets at full throttle, which can barely be heard over the two fans which are also running at full throttle.  It's like trying to sleep on an airport tarmac.

While I know I've posted my old friend's picture on the subject here before, bless me if I can find it here.  I think I also posted the bit of poetry below before as well, but also couldn't find it.  Still, both are appropriate to the day(s).

The break in the weather is actually coming a little earlier than expected, but it's still not going to be today.  So, let's get back to normal September weather, shall we, before I start writing gibberish.  Well, more than usual, anyway.

Only 14 days until Fall.

Sleep Deprived

3 AM and reluctantly up out of bed

for sleep eluded this weary head

Foggy mind and tired body are mine for today

will the dog days of summer ever go ' way?

Heat and humidity with no A/C

makes sleeping as hard as any chore can be

Sleep and wake, toss and turn, murmur expletive deleted

for the minutes of rest this weather has meted

You can't do much with sleep deprivation

being up and functional a horrid sensation

Every move and thought a much slower act

in the hope of maintaining this life's pact

But September will come with cooler air to be sure

ultimately this insomniac's cure

Until then coffee cups must be filled to the rim

To bring my mind out of its consciousness dim

So as I fill my first moments with muddy brew

and write these poetic words I must coo

If I'm required to look in the mirror at this tired sight

I should have a better reason to be awake at night

                                                                                                        2005 Lauren Swartzmiller