Somedays you wake up wrong,
The first dose of consciousness - full of confusion.
A blindfolded grope for whats amiss and you are no wiser.
Lots of clues and smart guesses later, you still have nothing you can put a finger to.
I wonder about it all day, wandering across the hall lit with the lazy sunday afternoon sun.
And now I go to bed, still scratching my head.
What can it be, afterall? The stuff I dreamt about last night or the thought I woke up with?