Her Infirmity is My Insomnia
I wake up at four in the morning. Try and sleep again. Mira coughs, inhales hard. Coughs again. She gets up and sprays her nostrils with her over-the-counter spray.
I listen to her. All the while hoping for a sleep that does not come.
sparrow’s song
beneath a brightening sky
bare maples
first published in Image Curve, August 3, 2017
photo by SHNYA KOSAKA on Unsplash
For dVerse Poets Pub’s MTB–Sleep
I tacked in a different direction. A lot of my sleep lately has been the interrupted kind. HIIMI exemplifies this recurring experience.
Frank J. Tassone 
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