(If you are reading this poem in The Reader, please click on the title “The Edge” above to go to my page to read it as the Reader cancels out the line spacing  and this is a shape poem. )

The Edge

        Moving between
        the edges
        of my life,
         I have railed against sleep,
        not knowing how long
        the journey between them
        might be.

At three,
I rebelled against naps,
craving the daylight adventures
lost to them.

At sixty-eight,
I fight off sleep in the wee hours,
hoping to gain a little bit more time
in a life whose furthest rim I am approaching.
.

I needed my naps more than the other girls,
my mother always professed,
not knowing all the long nights I stayed awake even then,
trying to win back the time lost to them.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/edge/