Why does sleep evade
when night falls starless
or white with moon
love masquerading as sadness
then anger as I'm reading aloud
in the darkest room of this house
detailed letters to lawyers,
ineffectual health agencies
certain members of
both sides of the family.
I try to imagine
how they justify the blame
the lack of empathy, even now,
finding it beyond my ability,
knowing and forgetting
some things never change.
And if I doze off to awaken alone
it is to my own discontent, not ours
for all these battles have been
already fought and lost in reality
where not even the blessed starlight
the swirl and scent of cypress nor
the loveliness caught by a dead artist
can soften or erase two stark dreams:
His daughter digging holes in our yard
looking for her father, nor me
telling him a white lie when
showing me briefcases of cash
I've hidden from him in a closet
back when we scarcely knew ourselves
back when we were both on fire.