Long hours of night creep slowly by. Tick. . . Tick. . . Tick. . . Tick. . . The clock clangs one. I am utterly alone. Just me and the clock. Tock. . . Tock. . . Tock. . . Tock. . . My cares all ceased with the setting sun, But that clock keeps screaming in my ears. All I crave is peace And silence: No ticking time bomb exploding in my head. I don’t care about the passing hours. Darkness brings a halt to all activity, Calms my rattled nerves, soothes my racing heart, Eases the tension of body and soul. My brain longs to sleep, Escape the daylight nightmare, Roam through the corridors and landscapes of dreams Fashioned from the fabric of my own imagination. The rich silk of slumber evades me, And my mind grows weary of the hypnotic beating Of the hours in my head. The clock clangs two, And I’m finally through With the savage sound in my ear. I pick up the clock and hurl it at the wall, Cursing as it bursts into broken pieces Of wood and metal springs and batteries Falling to the floor. It can wait until morning And the sun’s rays glaring through the window. Copyright © 2023 Dawn Pisturino All Rights Reserved

Dawn Pisturino is a retired nurse in Arizona whose publishing credits include poems, limericks, short stories, and articles. Her poetry has appeared in several anthologies, most recently in Hidden in Childhood: A Poetry Anthology, Wounds I Healed: The Poetry of Strong Women, and the 2023 Arizona Literary Magazine. A monthly contributor for Gobblers & Masticadores and MasticadoresUSA, she is a member of Mystery Writers of America and the Arizona Authors Association.
Featured Image: by Lucian Alexe from Unsplash

Editor: Barbara Harris Leonhard
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Amazon Best-Selling Author, Three-Penny Memories: A Poetic Memoir (EIF-Experiments in Fiction, 2022); Pushcart Nominee, 2022; Facebook: Barbara Harris Leonhard /barbara.leonhard; Twitter: @BarbaraLeonhar4; Instagram: @meelosmom123; Mastodon: @BarbaraLeonhard@msdtn.social; Linked In: ExtraordinarySunshineWeaver.
Divider Image: by GDJ on Pixabay

Yes! I’ve wanted to do that SO many times. Send that stupid alarm clock sailing through the air.
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My husband never turns off his alarm clock, and it makes me so mad!
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Thank you, Barbara, for publishing my poem. It’s live now on my blog with a link to MasticadoresUSA.
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I could hear the clock ticking…your words said it clearly and perfectly.
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Thank you! I appreciate it!
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A totally visual as well as literary experience it was to read your poem Dawn. A powerful piece and lovely for sure.
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Thank you, Francisco. You are always so kind!
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You’re welcome Dawn!
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Dawn, it’s our pleasure to feature your poetry! I can so relate to this one about insomnia! Your imagery is wonderful!
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Thank you, Barbara!
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Dawn what a lovely piece, although it did remind me of many who have trouble sleeping and lots of reasons as to why. The metaphors and the details were just beautifully written. Congratulations on this lovely piece. BRAVO!
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Thank you, Joni!
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You are so very welcome. You are a joy to read. 🦋🌹
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I appreciate that very much, Joni!
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Loving the action in this poem and how it evokes quickly relatable emotion! ❤
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Thank you, Layla!
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Reblogueó esto en Ned Hamson's Second Line View of the News.
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Thanks for sharing, Ned!
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Poor clock! Great poem though!
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Fantastic write, Dawn. Those first few lines set it up perfectly and pulled me in like a magnet! Brilliant writing all the way through. And by two o clock I’d have done the same to that clock! 🙂
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Lovely writing and words as pictures can be seen in the mind’s eye. 🙂 happy sleeping 😴
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Thank you! Same to you!
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Beautifully written… I heard the clock tick…ever minute like an hour… how long each moment feels in the dark… when everybody else is asleep but you.
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Thanks!
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An atmospheric piece, Dawn!
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Thank you, Ingrid!
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How brilliant. Time ticking is vexing. Your thoughts found a home in me. Thanks for sharing them, Dawn. Xoxo.
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Splendid, I know insomnia all too well, an old friend by now and all mean 💌🙏
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Ah, I’ve been here before. What an awesome poem, Dawn!
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I am fortunate not to suffer from insomnia. I can image how it feels from this descriptive poem.
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