What's Going On?

I don't know if I really couldn't get to sleep, or if I was just dreaming I wanted a cup of coffee, and I was cold, or I was too warm, or I was hearing noises, or what was going on. But I finally got up at 4:30, fed Mo, and made a big mug of coffee.

One thing on my mind is the start of a poem, or wanting to start one.

Really, the tragic bombing in Boston has shaken me up pretty badly--as it has done to everybody, I know. So what if I lose a night's sleep. We're not guaranteed sleep, or safety. Never were.

If I get through this month with all my faculties intact, maybe I can spend a week or so sleeping or writing the poem, or whatever.