Night Work

For a stretch in my life, I chose to be a  night worker; a 3rd shift night manager of a major retail store.  Suffice to say, for those who have done it, going from working day hours to night hours, requires more than a marginal adjustment.  I wrote this little poem back during my then, adjustment.

Night Work

Sleep now, I must
before the day is passed away.
The clock hands say it’s twenty ’til two
I clearly see it say.

The nights, to me, are days.
The days must turn to night.
But it’s hard to sleep the hours away
in midst of lovely light.

I try to read to drowsiness
that sleep may soon come on.
But ‘fools’ sleep  stays beside me,
only ‘Time’ is passed and gone.

Fine textured cloth nor tattered shade
can subdue the lovely light,
nor keep the hours from burning away
into another night.

Sleep now, I must
before the day is passed away.
The clock hands say it’s eight o’clock
Oh no! It’s another day!

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano


Filed under poetry

2 responses to “Night Work

  1. Jane Thorne

    Tom I like this one…your imagery with the line ‘Fine textured cloth nor tattered shade’ is perfect – Jane

    • thomag1

      I’m not a great poet, obviously, but I have handled my emotions through poetic attempts on the most mundane subjects…..and I realize, mainly to my own amusement. But thanks for your support and comment, as usual and my best always. tom


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