Night

Night, or what passes for night
in the full bright eyes of
passing airplanes
and automobiles,

feels different.
It is not so costly
to go to sleep
these evenings.

Unlike some time ago–
I am not certain
how much time ago–
it was agony.

Those lost hours.
They were not lost after all,
or all hours are lost.
I was elsewhere

in dreams, spinning
the elaborate fantasy
that would never
come true,

not quite,
so that when it
came true,
I was not

ready.
I was asleep,
or what passes
for sleep

in the full bright eyes
of another day
passing into
night.