Every sound is amplified, every feeling gets exaggerated.
The roosters crow in the distance, though the clock only says twelve.
Cries of a baby emerge from the house below, the mother shushes.
The heavy footsteps from the floor above and the slamming of doors
Depict the pictures of the struggles of an expecting mother.
The buzzing of the insects that I long to hear time and again
Is now a nuisance and even hypnotizing. I cover my ears.
A voice can be heard. Could it be somebody sleep talking
Or could someone be awake at this hour? It is late.
I cough uncontrollably to relieve the itch on my throat, it echoes.
Self-conscious, I wonder if anybody heard me.
The hour hand is now at two. There is an urgency to fall asleep.
Then I hear loud flaps and I say to myself, “Here he goes.”
The neighbor’s cock crows like it should. With the intent
To announce the arrival of a new day to every sleeping soul
Or to silence everything else. My consciousness drifts from my body.