She wakes and touches
hard bones of sleep.
Her heart thuds permanent
and fast between the sheets.

She draws the blinds
and lets light comein
a frozen slice of morning.

Hands gnawed by frost
she hangs out the wash
as winds lay cold transparent
palms against her cheeks.

She washes dishes, replaces bulbs,
finds keys, and waits in quiet rooms
for days to settle
and the wash to dry.

She sits and sifts through hours,
fearful she might go blind or
lose herself beyond repair

watching sun-bleached linen
sailing into a sea-blue sky
and in her wild imaginings
beyond this cage of time

there is her horizon of clean sheets
there the air between them
there her thoughts blow free

Poetry Magazine