firing up the activities
the first night back
and I’ve traded sleep for doing
two states and one photo today:
that’s how it goes
we come into service
and the calendar balloons with commitments –
easing back into pre-pandemic busyness
we’ve less taste for it now
like lobsters who got a reprieve
we know the difference between tepid and roiling
today we saw tracks in sand
and the rest was a blur
prayer to end procrastination
my son rattles off his high school deadlines
with certainty
positive he’ll get it all in on time
oh Lord
may I sit down
with a clear heart
and hours of untasked time
to subtract out the use tax money
and write the overdue
or early
(depends how you look at it)
grant report
may I cheerfully pound out what’s needed
and then sleep
untroubled by doubt’s cold flames
Ode to 2 AM
to the computer battery, giving up the ghost
the screen going blank
whirring fan going silent
to the dry pen barrel
nothing left to give
to my heavy lids
and slumped torso
fighting off inevitable sleep
to the freezer icemaker
rattling me awake
to the steady ticks
of the analog clock
marking the dark seconds
until light breaks
to the silent sleeping souls
whose cacophony makes
the swirling days splendid
and whose blessed nighttime stillness
allows thoughts to form
and expand like clouds
blowing up over the plains
adrift heavy with the promise of rain
that might soak and satisfy
the columbines
bowed by the house’s heat
to the locked doors
keeping the bears at bay
to the chocolate and wine
whispering in the cupboard
and the warm bed
countering their call
to the fuzzy blanket
tucking me in
in my half-asleep state
agreeable for examining
the dreamy subconscious
to the paper obediently absorbing
graphite, ink, ideas, my self
to those who will
put up with me tomorrow
and those who cluck their tongues
at my questionable habits
my inability to do
what’s right and reasonable
to the quiet stars straining
to put all this and more
into expanded perspective
to the sofa’s creak
when I finally tear myself away
to all these
I insincerely promise
I will do better tomorrow
(goodnight)
why I should choose sleep
dreams come carrying sparks
and maybe messages
electrical circuitry
becomes slow and even
the quiet night shift arrives
to empty the wastebaskets
and vacuum the mud-tracked carpets
time is allowed to go empty
and things are set to rights
my body prepares
for the next dawn
if I can only
let this day go
the sleeping fox
when the horizon
is too filled with disaster
I train my internal eye
on the image of a sleeping fox
we watched him climb
the hill behind our house
on a day when
most of our world had melted
there in the warm
russet-brown of the pine duff
he circled then curled,
a fiery fluff of warm fur
lit by early spring sunshine
he knew nothing of our worries
and simply slept sound
and I watched in thanks
for the proof of a being
who could still dream
simple safe dreams
limbs loose, mind at ease
dormitory room
in the sleeping room
bodies stay busy
minds turned out to shake
gallop eat daisies and peer at sky
make whatever worlds they will
bodies stay home
limbs heavy
but blood pulsing, lungs pumping,
mouths restless, straining to speak
air squeezing in and out of all
the little face holes
the dark unknowing hours mumble by
one exhalation at a time
flight to Christchurch
without asking
the friendly flight attendant
turns off my light
and puts me to bed
all I can do as we wing our way to
this land of crinkled cliffs
and warm woolly flesh
is scribble work hard and rest
before the scene goes grey
with the gift of sleep
priorities
sadly no superhero
tonight I carve out hours
in the blue-black dark
searching for a living reef
with nesting birds
a responsible skipper
adequate shade
and a tiny pricetag
and tomorrow I still won’t have
six-pack abs
