Why still opened

       Perhaps the goodness in knowing I am not the
only one still awake currently is rather comfy. Ah ha.
Shh don't boast but yes. Perhaps knowledge that
my sleeping habits also can be formed by
friends.

         The necessity of short hours of sleep or fullness
of a glass of wine, bottle. Whatever your liquid of
choice is.

           Recall that a moment too much enters mind
dispense of utencil and pick up a pair of shoes.
Decorate the soul well enough and take a moment
to freshen senses.

           Breathe. Deep inhale. Slow exhale.

           Would I be alone in thinking I am awake in
same time different place. Perhaps. Yet there is no
way of knowing. Just a question that sit unopened.

          Writing words is supposed to be soothing.
Still the poem doesn't end. So friend of mine, a
conversation of silent words placed across pages?
Interaction of space?

           Hmm. Not going to guess nor assume. Just
hope I am not solo in still standing awake. Holding
a view of the great outdoors freshly planted inside
my sights, my memories.

           How about you?