NIGHT WATERS

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The dog is so sleepy tonight
she only vaguely raises nose
to sniff a waft of woodchuck

before squatting to the power
of water, then runs back inside
to bed.  I myself am ready

to turn in.  Closing the blinds
I see the pensioner next door
has lit his lamp again.

I picture him sleep-limping,
groping walls of darkness for
another voyage down the hall.

In bed awake, I make
small meditations.  I become
the earth, the fire, the air,

the schooner Hesperus.  We
sink into the water, water
everywhere with not a drop to drink

then fall in crystal flakes
on the White Mountains,
rain on the Cocheco river

pelted circles, widening until
they intersect, then rise.  I think
we will become tomorrow’s skies.

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