Frances Park - “The Wakeful”The restless pass the night hours in company
forever about in the town; though many
at half past three admit to being lonely.
The wakeful perceive the small hour as merely a
digit on the clock’s dial, familiar
as supper time. This is not insomnia:
(a state of disturbance marked by anxiety,
tears, veronal, prayers to the Deity,
guilt, and a plenitude of self pity).
The wakeful are simply awake and quiet
at any hour—little concerned about it;
warm in the lamp’s glow, the soft bed jacket,
with cigarettes and fruit ready to hand;
a waltz whispered over the radio and
sleep hovering at the night’s end.