what grates on you?

sand is in my bed
it was too late
to bathe little girl
when we were back from the boardwalk

night's sleep broken
it is summer
and it's maybe the fortieth
time because of coughs
and stuffed noses inside
or laughing singing screaming out

tonight's been a bit
of it all
even the cops showed
then a lull came over
maybe prayer was answered
so i climbed back in

with sand in my bed
two hours later
little girl whimpers
and the voices are back by my window

tonight is one of those nights. it's nearly 5 a.m. and i've been awake for a couple hours, even though i actually went to bed early. summer is wild on our block, any time of day or night. in fact, sometimes the same people who wake me at two are still awake when i'm watering the flowers at seven. but this is how i came to write another poem.

i got out my journal to think through my feelings about the rudeness that woke me. that wasn't my first reaction, though. my first was to go downstairs to see who and where they were. i turned on my awfully bright porch light but it didn't phase them. after a bit they did move on, i wrote a bit, the police stopped by, and it got quieter. i went back to bed only to have a poem pop in my head!

i do identify with the poet, naomi shihab nye:

"the things that cause you friction are the things from which you might make art."

can you relate?