Awakening

A few times, I've fallen asleep in the middle of the day
and woken up with the sky colored dark blue and had
no idea what time it was. I've looked at the clock:
around six, but which six and what would it mean
if it were either one? I've stood up and walked outside
with a wet sheet of sleep wadded up in my head
and stood on the porch, listening to the sounds
of sparse traffic, wind, my door closing, and four
different kinds of birds chirping blocks away.
I've stood knowing I would quickly shed this body
for the one that was late for work or up too early
and anxious to get back to sleep, but this one,
the one with nothing to do but accept existence
and sense all the things around it, would stay
here until the last possible moment passed.