The Lions of Sleep

I'm bored of my pain.

My savanna brain is empty

early mornings I wake,

which is why I wake early.

I watch out for the pouncing lion

of the sun, but it comes 

as no surprise. The headlight

grows to encompass everything.

The deer sleeps on the shoulder

of the highway and the highway

soothes the deer with a lullaby,

a burble of passing cars.

My daughter goes limp in my arms.

Sleep sneaks up, catching unaware 

the most wakeful watcher. Still,

I cling to my routine, my regimen,

my coffee. I watch out for my daughter.