New Poem

Questions of Sleep

A cough, a tickle,
a sudden rise and froth
at the back of your throat—
something unnamed
drags you out of bed,
heavy footed, into mine.
You curl into me,
all chatter and conjunctions,
little “c” into big “C”
in the loose alphabet
of mother and daughter.
Your skin, infused with
shampoo and half-sleep
rests against my grain
silent as a star,
each dip and swirl
searching for the right word,
the form of things, how night
wraps its body around day
and asks for nothing but this
small happiness. What keeps us awake
other than the cheap wall clock
pushing the second hand toward day
the sound of no sound, the sound
of drifting, of grieving, of trying to find
a name for this.


carolee said…
this is beautiful.
Jessie Carty said…
just terrific :) especially liked the c and C
Catherine said…
I loved the lines "how night wraps itself around day/asking for nothing but this small happiness"
(I'm not sure if I have that quoted quite right, I can't see the post when I click on comments)
odessa said…
oh, how i love this. especially the lines quoted by catherine. such a beautiful moment, and the title is spot on!

i miss reading your poems and can't wait to read your book :)
Maya Ganesan said…
Ooh, nice.

(That was my exact reaction out loud. :) )

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