It's still so dark in the morning. I usually sleep in, but sometimes I wake up early. I guess the events of this poem actually took place at like 5 in the morning, but it felt like the middle of the night.
Is it a shame that my poems don't have more "original" titles? I don't like to push it.
Well, I like that this poem fits in with my "weather" series. Also, I really like looking at the snow.
Middle of the Night
Woke up a little shook up
from dreams I couldn’t remember,
took my pills, looked out
between the blinds. Snow
had piled up while I slept,
everyone’s yards blurred together
under an unseen moon.