Contributor: Richard Schnap

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In the heart of the night
I can hear the dreams
Of uneasy sleepers

A mother who regrets
Not saving her son
From his brutal father

An aging spinster
Who worries her abortion
Will exclude her from Heaven

A haunted soldier
Plagued by the faces
Of the innocents he killed

A guilty businessman
Who fired good workers
In his lust for cheap labor

And while they all wish
They could turn back the clock
And expiate their sins

They know it’s too late
As the beds they lie in
Grow cold as ice


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Richard Schnap is a poet, songwriter and collagist living in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. His poems have most recently appeared locally, nationally and overseas in a variety of print and online publications.