Lonley

Drifting in the provoking silences of the night
I think magical, haunting thoughts
remember, and dream, and drink.
The silence is beautiful, maddening,
needed and loud.
And the lost sound of others' sleep
is loudest and most intruding.
Mother and Father in their marital bed.
The child in the cot, the brother beside me.
The pictures remain vivid but don't make a sound.
The music might blare, the frogs might sing.
Even wind and nearby sea have a voice
and the traffic on the street.
But the perfect sound of other peoples' sleep eludes me.