... Drowsing, he moves/ his basket room to room, searching for a spot/ to pull sleep from, ... Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
Keeps him moving all through the end
of summer night, nails loading the floorboards
with the heaviness of sleep that cannot
land. Drowsing, he moves
his basket room to room, searching for a spot
to pull sleep from, cleaning himself, catlike,
licking one foot, then another, to soothe himself
finally to sleep despite a brigade
of crickets, distant road of traffic, early morning
shuffle of commuter trains ferrying
passengers across the river to the land
of the wakeful and the sleeping and the dead.