i.
The longest night of the year
was not so long when bridged
by sleep, all kinds, dreams
nested in dreams like Russian
dolls, brightly-hued, drenched
in lacquer, but nothing
in the center–
there are things
the mind keeps from us.
ii.
Which isn’t to say
I don’t still wake often–
the newspaper delivered
in its arc and impact,
or no sound at all
but with a different
tenor of silence,
or white noise, really,
when a voice drops out
I notice the loss.
iii.
Maybe had there
been stars, I would have
made it till later,
to celebrate the solstice,
but the blank blanket
effect drove me to sleep,
sometimes a bed
seeming like a maw,
but I should listen
to my body, it probably
needs it, this is just
alarm because
where does it all go?
iv.
Fled is that music,
do I wake?
or sleep?
That’s Keats,
and given the latitude
of this place I think
I know, slow all day
in spite of half a pot
of coffee, the streets
damp, the sky melting
into them, and drowsy
birds puffed up
with winter down;
I’m almost upon them
before they even
think to fly away.
OPTIONAL POETRY 
Where does it all go, indeed? I’m going to have to spend more time with this one. It’s really captured me.
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Thanks! The snooze button captured me, but glad something good came of it 🙂
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Your words seem playful.. As the words captivates my heart in a silly way.. and I don’t even know why. The simple thought of languor became so majestic. You have earned my enthusiasm.
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Thank you!
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between dream and awakening: the art of becoming meticulously immense
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a good trend!
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Thanks for the like on Keats at Teignmouth. I’m finding more and more references to other poets writing about or referring to or creating verse about Keats and enjohed December 22nd. Keats also used the word “maw” in the poem he sent to his friend Reynolds which you can also read on my Keats Ghost blog. Cheers!
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Thanks! I am enjoying your Keats blog — he was my first poetic love and I am sure I’ve internalized a lot of his word choices after reading all his poems and letters. Of course, there are far worse people to crib from. Looking forward to reading more of your work!
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This is incredible! Oh my gosh, so many feelings all into one poem…I love the bit about the newspapers “or with no sound at all/but with a different//tenor of silence” I could read this forever.
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Thank you! Glad it spoke to you
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I love your use of the Russian nesting dolls. I’ve used that imagery in a poem I wrote about my family for our Thanksgiving prayer one year. Long ago. When my grandma was still alive.
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Thank you, Jenny!
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