Judy portrait by Janet 2020 in December
Being Wise Forty-One November 14, 2021
At night I lie awake, remembering
instead of sleeping. In sleep I
forget what kept me wakeful.
It had been so vivid: a waking
dream that wouldn’t let go. Now
that slate is clean: erased, what
had intruded. The return of light
on the morning it finally killed
the late summer flowers. Winter’s
here with its chains, its loss of
light. There were a few tomatoes
we didn’t bring in, flowers we
might have picked, all gone.
Next year we’ll begin again.
Seeds, then seedlings, and slowly
flowers. Janet planted onions, which
will survive. The hens will wear
their new feathers. The mice will
be hiding in the house, in the
walls. I bundle up, pull over the
blanket, think of Thanksgiving
and Christmas. What shall I tell
my friends and neighbors? That
dreams keep me awake? I need
to wear more layers, put on more
blankets, believe I’ll continue
waking up?
No comments:
Post a Comment