Collision Course, Hour Twenty-Four
Collision Course
Sleep in the beginning
of this yearly adventure
flirtatiously flitted
around the periphery
of consciousness,
not quite
stepping into view.
Now, near the end,
sleep collides
with my eyes,
forcing blackout periods
from which I startle
and jump mid word,
a deer fleeing the hunt,
an involuntary response
to bone deep exhaustion
whose only remedy now
is sleep.