In a hot car
on sticky leather seats
my head bounces
in rhythm to the pot holed road.

Curled up in wool
for a midday snooze
like a kitten
before a toasty fireplace.

With exhausted eyelids
in a small corner hidden from view
my head rests on an open textbook
in a silent library.

I burrito in a blanket
in the middle of an open room
no available couch space.

I wedge between the front and back
of a half slab of rock
on a school bus.

The sun beats down
arms slip
through holes of a hammock
swaying in the summer breeze.

Across plastic chairs
during study hour
I hide from homework
and responsibilities.

On lazy spring Sundays
after a filling breakfast
on a timeworn couch.

Head in hand
during a mundane lecture
I drift in and out of sleep.

While rain pounds
and lightning strikes
I burrow under many warm covers
in the darkness of my bedroom.

I slouch in the rough seat
and listen to a baby wail
no comfortable spot to discover.