Two Poems

Getting Up in the Night

'In the Land of the Living?'
     Yes. But wait a bit. No.
Being like this, only living the way
     of a sleepy chrysalis

as I stumble across the landing,
     groping not to fall
down the stairs; or asleep again
    against that shadowed wall.

But no need for the light.
    Glints and dark glows - amber,
greenish, cemetery white,
    flake in from the square

through cracks between curtains;
    enough for three o'clock eyes;
enough...so touch button and -
    Niagara. Drudge back
...