This poem, The Hours, is by Australian poet Aidan Coleman, whom I thank for his permission to post this:

Evenings I get nothing done.
The late night ads hunt in packs.  I stay up.
The clack, clack, clack of the fan. The hours.
And there all the time, prayer:
the pool I sit beside,
the cool of every drink and shadow.

 
References:
Aidan Coleman [2005]:  Avenues and Runways.  Australia: Brandl & Schlesinger Poetry.
Some more poems by Aidan Coleman can be found in an ABC Radio National podcast,  here.
Previous poetry posts can found be here.