Sometimes, days are a whirlwind,
Of possibilities, exchanges, people's faces.
Silently observing; energy stretched thin,
The sunlight sinks, leaving only traces.
You close your eyes after the day has decided to die down.
The weight of your exhaustion, so heavy, you could drown.
But before you have a chance to embrace the dreams that dangle above your head,
It's another day, and another whirlwind at the foot of your bed.
I wrote this a couple years ago - when my youngest child was a newborn. I felt that as soon as I had laid my head on my pillow and closed my eyes; it was morning, and I would have to start another day. Luckily, I get more sleep now.