Bells ring.
I vault from bed,
hazy and cold.
To my eyes the world appears dreamlike.
I missed the waking.
The intermission continues.

A half filled glass of water,
is my greeting to a dawning consciousness.
It is the middle of the bed. It is concession.

Foot to floor sans slippers.
Resentments build.
Work to be done.

Be it my lot in life.
Be it my dreams.