A wartime night. Two AM.
Asleep In bed,
you are slowly moving
through a delicate web of
calm, sweet dreams
when, suddenly,
you jerk awake –

WHAT WAS THAT?

Was it that all too-familiar
grinding, flapping
noise on your smartphone,
like a broken-down dishwasher devouring itself,
warning you missiles are headed your way?

Was it the banshee howl
of street sirens, shrieking
immediate incoming drones,
catapulting you out of bed,
skidding you down
to your bomb-shelter “saferoom”?

Heart pounding,
you listen, and

there’s nothing there,

nothing but wind breathing the trees,
far-off dog barking,
the faint hum of life renewing itself
in the calm, nourishing dark.

You grimace, lay back, turn over again
as your heartbeat gradually slows,

but the room is too hot, the breeze too intrusive,
the sheets knot up and tangle your feet,
your dreams have dissolved,
there’s only the night,
you clutch your pillow
and wait