A Common Wish

If not for the need of sleep
I’d be living twice the life
I now drowse through.

At night, I’d drink my wine,
my tea, my strongest beers,
or just water while I write.

I’d read my shelves empty
on a table layered with dead
pens and one live one flying.

I’d teach myself to dance, to fight,
to paint, to draw, and remember.
I’d read to my daughter till she woke up.

Then all day, with eyes still
light as diamond-shine, I’d make up
for all the lost dreaming.