Night Fragment

Night is when the shadows come
Creeping into my room on silent feet,
Moonlight memories.
I am a living thing,
Trapped in a goldfish bowl.
Swallow me whole in this wakeless dream,
And perhaps I'll forget -

Perhaps in this night
There is nothing to remember
And the fragments
Are just fragments
Not puzzle pieces to form a picture
Before my muddled eyes.

This night is just a time to sleep
Not to twist the covers,
Coil and curl and claw at hours,
Turning over in my sleep,
Turning over to the clock's red glow,
And the slice of bare back
Like a fragment of my dream
That is out of reach,
Out of real,
Out of time.

Night is night, and dreams are dreams.


January 3, 1997
© Lela Kaunitz