POEMS by ANNE

By
ANNE WARD-MASTERSON

10/1/20

Do you ever regret
going back to bed?
You get up
before the alarm clock.
Your Great Dane’s
soft whining
gets you out of bed and down
the stairs.
You let her out into chill
darkness to create new
dead patches
in the lawn.
All the while
listing to one side,
inner ear still
asleep.
Eyes a mix of cello tape
and sandpaper,
much better to
leave them shut.
In those long moments,
where the memory
of sleep reigns,
do you ever
force yourself
to start the day?
Not for work,
not to whittle
down the dishes,
or stack wood;
but to see how
the sun pours over
the mountains.
Greet the now golden clouds.
Sing the setting moon
to sleep.
Hear, again, the soft gossip
of songbirds and ravens.
Acquiesce to the sacred weight
of your dog’s head
pinning you to the
gritty porch step.