Well the day when well,
back to back meetings as well,
I go through them well.
It is Friday night,
the corner lamp with its light,
and shadows that play.
My music’s silent,
waiting for the sounds again,
trapped on my old phone.
Please release them all,
Let them go and let be free,
to reach my hearing.
The lamp light is strange,
and things move in the shadows,
and then disappear.
I shuffle my feet,
as if to scare it away,
whatever it is.
Tiredness storks me,
with each wink it closes in,
looking to seize me.
