Mikaela Castledine #221 Finite

I used to wonder

in the early days of my new motherhood

whether the number of times we could drop down into sleep

was finite

like eggs in ovaries doled out by the month

and when we overtook our quota

five ten times a night woken by our children

it would mean we would one day

exhaust our limited supply

and insomnia would claim us

some time before the end

This is clearly

a thought that only

the deprived might have

and now I wonder

with all the squander of this daily writing

if poems might not be the same