subtext

• •

With Dreams to Go Before I Sleep

I dance across broken ground

with what little grace I have,

picking out patterns in my dreams

as if connecting the stars

to something larger than themselves.

I cannot find my balance:

I wobble to the left, to the right

like a top about to fall—-

with all directions tossed 

into the periphery like ice.

Nor can I stand still enough

to learn the silence beneath

the inexorable chatter

clattering about my skull

like bones from a wooden cup.

(February 15, 2022)