Israel Residency: Poetry, 2005

Sleeplessness Across An Ocean


A night of sleeplessness
like an ocean at my back
and the coldest desert
night to date chilling
the smooth concrete and plaster walls,
wind beating backs of
window blinds, their wheezing
frames a ruckus rattling,
and the ornery kitchen
refrigerator in rhythmic moan,
requiring a blow to metal ribs.
I spun relentlessly in bed with
the beloved blanket I bore
nothing more than a swung door
for the brisk, parched air;
small succor
despite the attachment—
languid in wide-eyed exhaustion.

A night of sleeplessness
and ocean-deep in loss,
and her bottled hand
becomes companion on
the night the newborn
of a sibling’s friend
lay, ventilated and tubed,
the mother on watch
for birthing her husband’s
son dressed in impending death
and that sibling, aloof and apathetic,
more a past than present;
the night a friend’s young cousin
unburdened her life
in despair, her hung head silenced
and sorrowful memory left
to four page gift for a mother
come home to one less daughter.

A night of sleeplessness
with an ocean to ocean-
bled sea between;
her early hour body aged
and chained to langsyne
and mine in ache and much
too awake, witness to a sky
upon her early morning call
as white as Midwest winter,
desert sand blown high,
mixing with clouds
hiding a jagged horizon
like drift snow buoyant
with unwavering wind
I’ve felt on afternoons
standing in open field,
arms spread wide,
nearly blown away.