Black skies overhead

Peaceful dreams, restless nightmares

A winter cold holds

Working nights has a way of blurring edges.

Sleep comes in fragments, dreams don’t always agree on what they want to be.

This week, a winter cold settled in too — the kind that doesn’t knock you flat, just lingers. Heavy head, restless body, warmth that never quite reaches where it’s needed. Lying there, listening to the dark, aware of the sky pressing down.

Some nights are peaceful.

Some aren’t.

Most are a mixture of both.

This haiku came out of that space — between rest and unrest, between waking and dreaming — held in place by the season.