i have all
my mother’s habits
i awake in the middle of night
to smoke a cigarette
i have a terrible fear of flying
and i don’t like being alone
in the dark
sleep is a sport we all
participate in
it’s the scourge of youth
and a necessity of old age
though it only hastens the day
when dissolution is inevitable
i grow tired
like my mother doing without
even one small word
that says i care
and like my mother i shall fade
into my dreams
no longer caring
either