How He Slept Through It

How He Slept through It You slept again: Since moments after supper, Passing into the lilting darkness of closed eyes, As if it were your head, Full and heavy from eating Instead of your stomach Pulling you down to dreams. You slept through letting the dogs out; Forgot to feed the fish ; Forgot my very desired cup of coffee With its added ounce of Tia Maria, Forgot to check my bandaged foot; And dismissed The kiss on my longing lips. You drifted off just before Night’s totally overlaying of day. Warm under the burgundy cover You pulled over your shoulders; Leaving me needing To tug and struggle for my own blanket, To wrench it out From under our overweight dog…Aargh! You fell off as if to Lay there among some heavy, Lost forest logs, Missing the moon’s trailing Over our house, Running its route To crash and flag into the far horizon, with its Leaving alarm, wanting to call up a new day, Which will have us leave sleep And mysterious dreams. Then we’ll be Loose in ourselves, starting away from The wistful, and the absent hours. I’ll guarantee a morning’s kiss all During the while the dogs Are out and hardly missed. The covers will be all folded back. The fish will circle all Around beneath their light turned on. The sun will shine its splendor in coming. Our ways of the day Will have begun, Leaving little forgotten, Except, perhaps, if a nap comes along. —————————— (c) sally young Eslinger 10/21 Thanks be to God