In Sleep's Absence Poem by Gary Witt

This street, in dawn’s penumbra, lends solace
To one who walks in the absence of sleep.
Angular mist reveals itself beneath street lights
And brushes against a ruminative brow, a pensive ear.
This quiet resists all sound; this chill collects and clarifies.
Emptiness fills, time halts in shadow and quickens in light.
In the absence of sleep there is only churning, useless energy
That dissipates from soul to brain to legs.
The mind winds dully, and muscles follow blindly,
Seeking without wonder, calling without connection.
Silence is a balm now; emptiness medicinal.
I come from quiet into quiet, from chill into chill,
I long for more, prepare for less, and see the fog through.
My coat on the back of the chair smells weary, wet, and cold.