She came alive when the moon was full,
The world quiet and peaceful
But for the sounds of her own making,
The moonlight tap dancer,
Her staccato tapping like Morse Code,
Erratic and sporadic,
A dance unto its own,
Her stage the high footboard of the bed,
A 2am S.O.S,
A devil’s dance.
Her insomnia- worn human weeps,
And still she dances in the moonlight,
Snoring, sighing, and dreaming.