poetry
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The Awake from Forgetting and the Thinkingthinkingthinking

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Tonight I sleep in a nusery.
Originally I wanted the other room
That was bigger and had books peeking from the door.
God knew where I should be even when I did not.
Now I get to see what I fear I’ll never have and
I don’t want to wake for the 6am Haiku Hike.
I want to stay in Sam’s room for as long as I can,
To let the stars taped to her wall follow me
Into my darkness. I’ve never slept in a nursery before–
Being the oldest of five meant we couldn’t afford
One room for one child. Each one slept close
In my arms, serenaded, pinched softly
To almost awaken when their kicking became
Too painful. There were no changing tables
In my mother’s house. There was no net
Of collected toys in a high corner of a wall.
We each had one favorite doll or truck–
Mine was a dog, PupPup, who has always gone everywhere
I go except for this night. At twenty-five
I forget him for the first time, leave him
At home when I go on a trip,
In such a rush to pack toothbrush and lotion
I forgot to pack my peace. Now I can’t sleep and
My fingers are tired of typing. I have all
These beautiful baby things to think about
And dream about
Awake.

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