Hotel Room

Snore, snore, cough, cough.

The flush of the toilet breaks the sounds of snores

Then the murmur of voices in the hall

A slamming door


I turn over to my other side in hope to find my way back to my dream, but

The whir of the heater brings me back

As I whiff the smell of bleach from the pillows and sheets


Stillness and quiet, but only for a brief moment.

There is breathing – labored. From my grandmother.

Then the stirring of my daughter.

A gentle snore from my mother.

The familiar cough of my father.

I look up at the hotel room ceiling

Surrounded by my loves

and the sounds of their sleep

As I wish for ear plugs and a hotel room to myself.

photo credit: Hard Rock Hotel, Las Vegas via photopin (license)

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