I Can't Sleep

After the parade

When red plastic cups lie

Scattered across the sweat soaked streets,

Still ringing with the memory of celebration,

Who am I?

In my bed

And my head is churning, guessing,

Reassessing every passed phrase

And caught gaze in case

They saw me.

Who am I?

Pounding music and

Raised hands in worship -

A forward march to slip

Your sense of self beneath

Your need to help. Your grief

Is pushed down so that no one sees

That You can’t sleep.

A flag like a rainbow left behind,

Dropped, a promise that

You will find, trampled and dirty

And mishandled

And in need of care.

Make it whole,

A reminder to your soul that

You're not the least of these,

First and last to see

That the crowd of the parade

Still walk beside me.

Who am I?

I am,

Who I want to see

Is looking back, unclouded

And free until the

Next night I can’t sleep

And everything repeats.