Does She Sleep

Does she sleep
or does she lay awake?
Does she dream
or does she shake?

Cold from the winter,
cold from the ills.
Sick of solitude
and the bottles of pills.

Did a bird chirp
just the other day;
or was it a leaky faucet
turned too tight the other way?

Brittle branches
claw against the pane.
Claps of thunder
signal drenching rain.

Tears streak
along a soggy cheek.
Forecast on both sides
of the glass are bleak.

Will he come by
with flowers and smiles?
Would he brave the night
the storm, the miles?

Would she anger
if he saw her this way;
bloated face and feet
all blush faded to gray.

Could he warm her,
ease her mind and fears;
hold her in his arms,
wipe away the errant tears?

She nestled in the pillow
her tired, weary head
and found now some pleasant thing
to dream about instead.