Poem: Night Window

 

Night Window

a dog's whine wavers, riding whispery leaves--

such a howl-whimper rollercoaster,

 

nothing to hold onto,

not in this tortuous sound;

 

and yet i will not admit, tucked in bed,

that it forces me to pray.

 

so late, and yet

there’s too much absence of quiet in the silence.

 

stray chirps; deodar and ash rustles;

a lone screech of far off rubber.

 

let’s just say

there’s too much pregnancy of risk.

 

of some ruttish feline minuet.

of some chuffing semi, some gruff jet plane.

 

funny how interlapping breaths,

easy as a purl of river,

 

an anodyne measured in a rigor of lungs,

 

cannot override the night window’s

invitation.

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