WAKING UP

A recycling truck
rolls clankily through my sleep
stirring my just enough
for a flash of annoyance
before I slip back into a dream,
hungry for its comfort
and adventures.
It is not until the sunshine
and a bird
chirping
chirping
chirping
that I open my eyes
and try
unsuccessfully
to hold onto the dream
as it slithers through my fingers,
unraveling at the slightest touch,
like the surface of a lake,
its stillness and solidity
shuttered
by the slightest breeze.
I lay there
missing my dream
even though I no longer remember it.
Wondering just how little it takes
to Wake us up
if we just let it.
And why
for me
it was a birdsong
and not a truck
that did so.