Last night I slept sound.
The night before not so much
as I woke at midnight sweating
over mammom. Jesus said I cannot
serve God and It, yet I confess
some days this feels tricky.
But last night’s sleep was deep
with the exception of one
trip to the pot to pee in, a
walk that afforded me the chance
to eye the nearly full moon
mooning the new fallen snow.
The old woman named Nylotis
once told me “Never miss the
chance to show your babies the moon.”
Nylotis is long dead now and my
babies are tall grown so it is just
me and the moon both of us
almost full-bladdered rising in the
black night to do our business.
The moon kept working but I
walked back to bed to dream
poor poet’s dreams until dawn.