Unable To Sleep *
Hours pulsed,
turning her in the twist
and burn, tilting the future
at her, a cold ghost.
Memory skirts her,
fingers that dark wolf.
She felt safe
buckling
under pain.
* Erasure of Sally Rosen Kindred’s poem “Which Way Is November and How Many Feathers.”
9 thoughts on "Unable To Sleep *"
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I love the verbs – so appropriate for a night of no sleep: twist, burn, tilt, skirt, buckle.
“Fingers the dark wolf” reminds me of ‘The Nothing’ the dark wolf from the Never Ending Story. The Nothing being the fear of what’s after death. I can feel the anxiety in your words. Hope you find the sleep.
The “she” in the poem thankfully isn’t me. I’m blessed with falling asleep almost as soon as my head hits the pillow. But when I’m under great stress, it happens.
This is what an erasure should do. Each word pulses with meaning.
Thank you, Shaun.
This is brief but powerful in its brevity.
Thanks, T.M.
So powerful, Karen.
Thank you, Melva!