May Morning

Sprinklers water garden lawn

Sirens in the distance

Seagulls spreading wing lift off

Mosquitos hungry witness

Eyelids close they’re curtain thin

My mother’s sleeping now

Sunshine pours and sea grass bends

Gently towards the light

sleeping in the afternoon

sleeping in

the afternoon

dreamless

I wake

nursing a wound

which as, I

breathe

it breathes too

a porous

little mouth

reminding

me, to rise

against

the death

of sleep,

do all

I can

to speak —

and dream —

and try

once more

to heal.