poem for a Saturday

an irregular riff of my heartbeat
awakened me last night –
interrupting a pleasant dream.

I am alive! And I can overcome
the dull monotony of deathlike sleep
if and when I choose.

Maybe it was the coffee I drank
too late in the afternoon
that stirred me from sweet sleep.

The dream? I was in a field
of overgrown wildflowers –
hunting for sassafras roots
my father planted in his youth –

The old men used to say no caffeine
after lunch. I never thought
it would apply to me.

3 thoughts on “poem for a Saturday

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