Two hours into sleep
Nerves in my legs tense and twitch
Like a raging fire.
Leg lifts at midnight
Try to get these twitching legs
As tired as I am.
On Sunday night
There are no trucks on the highway
The night is still,
I listen toMy husband’s breathing
As he sleeps and dreams,
No chirping crickets
No singing birds
Or squirrels screeching,
My jumping legs
Tell me I am alive
— the silver lining,
I wonder where
All the cicadas have gone,
They weren’t as loud this year
Or here as long,
There is no rain,
No tree frog songs,
No sirens wailing,
There is only me
On a silent night
As the moon climbs high in the sky.
Doctor Grandma 