Night shifts leave me dried, tired, sun deprived.
Daytime – awake yet unable to bask in the summer sun.
The sun’s first sighting signals my bedtime.
In the daylight hours, my sleeping soul stirs alone.

My midnight oil warms those sleeping in bed;
Seduced by pleasant peacefulness and dreams.
I toil at night when the world is dead,
And spirits guard my early grave patiently.