After the midnight mark on a Sunday

my thoughts 

are creatures of the night.

unexpected visitors, hidden in feathers 

and down.

the mind begins to wander

as the body rests,

the present disappears

while the future manifests.

in thoughts, in dreams,

reality permeated by

a sudden amalgamation of moments

that have yet to occur.

as much as you may battle with the wave,
you can never defeat it.

five nights later and here you are.

but not really.