“Once I wanted the whole dawn not to let me sleep”
Annie Finch ~ Lucid Waking

...Now I beg these longer nights for slumber. Lights out except for a candle, captive in a hanging lantern's orb of spider glass. I watch it gutter and flutter, throwing shadows in ever expanding, ever shrinking art forms. Turbulence from the open window sets the whole in motion, creaking slightly with each sway. Hypnotic. Closed eyes. Time trundles on though the clock faces backwards. Breathing tension away. Then I hear it. The unmistakable buffeting of an insect between ceiling and wall. It touches my face. A scramble for the light switch and illuminated there is the clumsy form of a Crane fly, legs too long for aesthetics. It moves closer to the corner. I will it into a dusty web that has gone unnoticed. But no, back it comes, dipping in flights of meaningless direction. All chance of sleep is gone. Yet there is compensation in the company of this other wakeful soul. We witness constellations slip slowly westward, a moon sinks, dawn clouds threaten rain.
each day briefer still
insects take their final flight
autumn fires the wood

Grace’s challenge is to ‘write and find the “extra” in your ordinary day’ Haibun Monday #22  ExtraOrdinary Days