Again

        He usually comes in 
                just after midnight 
        And doesn't bother to close the door.
        Sleeping is not really a question then. 
                So there can be no answers.
                Dreams aren't always the best things.
        He whispers in my ear, a litany of faces
        With names I cannot remember half the time. 
        Hours roll like trucks on the highway.
        Images from before flash like the Truck Stop Lights
                Over my bed when I was a kid.
        Long walks are good, the city is dangerous 
                This time of night.
        They don't help to sleep... just to kill the time.
        Summer is best the light comes early.