an audience of one
the ceiling fan
skips a pattern
of shadows
across the face
of my digital clock
it flashes
the incorrect time
in an attempt
to follow the beat
all is quiet
in my room
my laptop
hums to itself
I have a song
dancing
through my head
a catchy tune
familiar lyrics
I stare blindly
at the stacks
of things
I have accumulated
they don't look
as attractive now
just stuff
gathering dust
their stories fade
lose their meaning
did I really
go there
did I really
breath that air
or is it
someone else's story
I tap out the beat
on my keyboard
and try
to put it all down
so nothing else is lost
I perform for
an audience of one
David Austin Smith May 2006
(it's 1:13am and I'm not asleep)
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