The Waking Hours

It is 3:00 am I wake up in a sweat
With no one next to me to look at
A blue light from the silent TV screen
A sad reminder of where I have been
Gone are the summertime happier sounds
Just rhythmic rain hitting the bare grounds
The wind announces himself with a colder howling
Helping the most stubborn leaves hear his calling
Turning from green to brown
Just like the fortunes of many
In this quiet working town
It is 4:00 am
No more sounds of critters returning food to their litters
Just engines of vehicles readying to run
While groggy men pack their tools and their unhealthy lunch
It is 5:00 am I look at my phone not expecting much
A few sextexts, a missed phone call
A few thoughts, my warming touch
It is 6:00 am the alarm goes off I take my 3 magic pills to continue the beautiful dream
I bury my head in between my pillows to avoid dealing with my tenuous self esteem