It’s three in the morning the eczema in my legs
scratches like a myriad of ants and feet hurts
it is the diabetes looking for an outlet,
I walk around the flat, a good thing it is large.
From somewhere a dog whines its owner shush
the dog it must be in pain but can tell no one
where it hurts.
I hear the lift going down its owner is taking it out
for a night walk or to a vet, perhaps the dog
I think of drinking a glass of wine but since it is
dawn I settle for a cup of tea and a bisque
as the blood sugar is too low, I add a tea spoon
Looking out of the window in my study I can
see a light of a flat from a window in the opposite
building, someone else who can’t sleep.
I massage my feet, the infernal scratching has
subsided and soon it will be morning.