First, that sunrise
and those birds calling to each other
from the electric line and overgrown fence.
                                Sleep.
                               And maybe the bills need
paid. Or maybe a great meteor will crash
into– or maybe the soft grocery store lights
will shadow form across its floor.
                                Pencil in time for
the appointment with sleep,
it’s familiar rooms. 
                                There is a time
to talk. There will always be. 

Of course.