The Night Crooner
At 4AM his eyes are open wider than yours are at noon
For seven years he has owned the pre-dawn hours
He has owned you
All your attempts to wear him out before bedtime,
at letting him sleep early late or not at all have failed
the way your marriage to his mother did
You stare back at him, knowing he will not respond
to your pleadings that he shut his eyes
To pack it in for now
Secretly you want him to talk back to you
with a smart-ass remark
But there is nothing
Nothing but hazel eyes that at this hour
have turned to unblinking slate
When he finally succumbs,
you summon all your energy to write this
Remembering you love him
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