What's for Dinner?

The chirp of the crickets outside my window
provides a steady hum to the otherwise still night air
Kitten curled in bedsheets beside me
toes outstretched and twitching
dreaming dreams of field mice and fireflies
and fresh tuna in his bowl.
The fan overhead beating slow and steady
I'd bet 70 beats per minute
by my metronome's measure.
These things break the silence of my mind
which I'd rather wasn't silenced
For silence leads to deeper thoughts
of places my mind fears to travel
down dusty corridors of long-forgotten ills
shadows dancing on the walls
hinting at reminders of what once was
doors locked that need remain so
if sanity is to keep its tentative hold
on my mind.
So crank up the radio!
Drown out these thoughts!
Pull the covers over my mind
and the wool over my eyes
so I may think the world's a happy place
where kittens dream and crickets chirp
in the still night air
with nothing more important on their mind
than what's for dinner.