In the Hour Before I Sleep
In the hour before I sleep I can hear my body breathe –
Up, you body! I nearly shout, but shouting with a tight-closed mouth
The bright old door is closing now as I think myself to dreaming
In the shade before the night I warm my hands in final breaths
Holding fingers soft with blood I hold as best as soft flesh can –
In the hour before I sleep I feel my body breathing!
Shadows wax across the land that I have tilled all of my life
I watch as fences, houses, sand, all wash into a common black
The bright old door is closing in upon myself as I dream
Pulling up the grass that’s gone I wonder where it could have went
When my feet have been here so long. Now I walk on a faceless wind
In this the hour before I sleep. The shoreline’s steady breathing
Blows trees that line my memory, each lungless, waterless and gray
Adorned with cups that are too small, they drink themselves to wash away
The bright old door is closing now upon me.
(And I dream
the night that is for want
plucks tiniest flower
released June 1, 2013
Synnett, Finkelman, Burkosky, Bassett, 2013.
all rights reserved