Sleep is Like
Sleep is like heading to the locker room at halftime
Sleep is like stepping into the wings between acts
Sleep is like going outside for a cigarette.
And then you go back to work
Back to the performance
Back to the game.
The game that may go thirty thousand rounds;
But who you really are is when you’re on break;
The rest is just your job, performance, game, not you.
And when at last it ends, and you go home,
Back to where you came from,
Who are you? and where do you go?
Perhaps you know this while you’re deep
If you have any
thoughts on this poem, Robin
Helweg-Larsen would be pleased to hear them.