The darkness.
It surrounds me as I am engulfed under my covers, protected from the crisp flow of the air conditioning.

Alone.
Still.
Calm.

The sound of cicadas and crickets;
the steady tick of the clock across the room; every tick making the morning come closer;
the acceleration of a car going thirty-five in a twenty-five;
the bark of a dog who just can’t fall asleep;
the light in my face coming from my neighbor’s front porch light, which enters through the crack of the window;
the creak of my bed as I lean to stretch my arm.

Avoid going to bed angry, the tensions will further worsen.
Dawn and midnight are hours of danger for such disputes.

My body heat becoming trapped under my covers;
the air stops and then starts back up again.
Brisk winds pick up, rain falls on the roof with a bang,
down come the acorns, putting dents on the hoods of cars.

Darkness invades.

Entertainment from Mother Nature prevents me from resting.
At midnight, I am the only one awake,
or so it feels.

Solitude.

I reflect upon my day, my life, my future, my family, my friends.
The suppression of melatonin allows me to think,
a lot.
My brain is most curious when I am awake and still and calm.
So much to do, so little time.
Anxiety makes me ponder every little thing that could go wrong,
but as my brain wanders down the road of confusion and brokenness, I come back to reality.

The cicadas.
The crickets.
The tick of the clock.

Everything will be okay.