By Michael De Rosa
Sleep eludes me.
Every minute seems to have more than sixty seconds.
Seconds take their time to slide away.
The night is still, but not my mind.
Katydids had ceased their chirping.
But not the buzzing of my thoughts.
Reliving the worst of times.
All my shortcomings, failures.
In all their color and sound.
Did I really say that, do that?
My Love senses my disquiet.
Silently envelops me in her arms.
Her warmth gentles my thoughts.
The chaos of my mind slips away.
Michael De Rosa is a writer from Wallingford, PA, who recently retired as a professor (emeritus) of chemistry at Penn State Brandywine. Interests are travel, photography, and birding. The writer has recently published a short non-fiction piece, “Smoke Rings,” in Ariel Chart, and a poem, “Ten Years Old Again,” in Trouvaille Review.
Academy of the Heart And Mind 