Sallow Stutters

I don’t go to sleep, sleep doesn’t come to me
we are difficult friends, I’m told
but we are friends, all right
for it lets me see and listen to the world differently
the breeze speaks to the curtains
the sodium lamp on the street sometimes stutters
sometimes, a dog startles the air around it with a sudden bark
the clock goes on ticking
loud enough to make the passing of time somewhat sad
stars sail from one window to another
trucks rumble faraway

by not visiting, sleep reminds me
that the sun, though unseen by night
keeps Earth from spiralling into depths of naught
to remember that helps immensely