on the goodness of night

there is no greater relief than
shucking of day
sloughing off costume
rituals of potion and removal
of turning down of
putting away
clothes folded nicely behind the closet door
everything in its place
blanket at my thirsty feet
light extinguished
soft give of bed and slink of sheets
(here you go yes now it will be okay)
a pill that means relinquishment is on its way
means there are measures one can take
what comfort
what revelry
to be able to select for
soft cocoon of home and dark quiet of night
what solace
what calm
drawers pushed to
glass of cold water on the nightstand
refrigerator hum blotting out
last remnants of
the fourth of july
tonight I will sleep not to dream
but for the swaddling
for the inward turn
folding of limbs
pillows between knees otherwise pressed too tight
jaw clenched
strangled cries buried deep beneath the veil
forgotten on waking
misty eyed in morning fog
padding to the coffee machine
which sits dumb on the counter
and always optimistic
about the coming light


About alabamagoddamn

To learn about me please see, "What's a Southern Girl Doing in the World?" on my homepage.
This entry was posted in Original Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to on the goodness of night

  1. MoonCookee says:

    Masterful restraint, not one word too much or needed. Your language is pure as hive honey and as lurid as air filled with baking bread. thank you. Sending the good.

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