the tumble of sleep

it's less slipping
and more
of a stumble into sleep.
so much
on your mind.
the room crowded
with decisions to be
made.
the knick knacks
of your day
teetering
stone cold and quiet
on some shelf.
a rattle of pipe,
or is it wind
wanting,
or answering
outside the window.
the bed is a flat table
of white sheets
that you lie
upon
and roll, never quite
getting to where
you need to go, shuffling
the papers,
reading between
the lines, unsleeping
with eyes
closed.